We Are What We Are
by He Who Writes His Own Canon
Summary: Unpopular and targeted constantly by Jackson Whittemore and, in a seemingly more personal case, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski finds himself drawn to the brooding and mysterious new kid Derek Hale. Sterek-centric. NSFW/triggering themes within. IT LIVES.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N**_ : This is loosely based on a story I wrote (and is published here) about three and a half years ago. It was a _Glee_ story titled _**Disturbia**_. Although this is basically a rehash of that, except using _Teen Wolf_ characters, I switched it up a little bit to make it come off as more believable. And it's also my first Sterek story.

* * *

 _ **A/N2**_ : Also, I apologize for the short first chapter. I promise they're going to get longer.

* * *

Stiles Stilinski hit the snooze button on his alarm, rolling from his back onto his stomach, clutching his cherished pillow to his face. He didn't want to get up, knowing that if he did, he'd have to go to school and suffer the pain and humiliation of high school, which, in Stiles' case, was much more painful and humiliating than anyone else he knew. When he was in third grade, Stiles was diagnosed with ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder), which meant, as explained to his eight-year-old self, he couldn't sit still very long and he couldn't focus on his studies. The diagnosis made its way through the hallways of Beacon Hills Elementary and Stiles found himself being teased by a lot of his classmates, most particularly two of them, Jackson Whittemore and Scott McCall.

Jackson was a magnificent douchebag, something Stiles did not hesitate to call him when the blond boy started up on his daily tirade of why Stiles didn't fit in and why he should transfer somewhere else. Scott, on the other hand, was a whole different story; he stood quietly beside Jackson as the other boy berated Stiles, but when it was Scott alone, it was more vicious, as if Stiles had done something to personally piss off Scott. Stiles had bruises from all the times that Scott had slammed him up against or into something. Maybe it was when the two were paired up for a science project and, despite what their teacher had said about being graded as one, Stiles got an A and Scott got a C, which was because Stiles did all the work and Scott did nothing more than show up for the presentation.

Stiles finally decided to roll out of bed and get ready for school. He dug around in his closet for a clean shirt and produced his favorite red hoodie. Sliding on a plain white T-shirt, he tugged the hoodie over his head. Rifling through yesterday's jeans and putting them on, Stiles found his keys and bounded downstairs, skipping breakfast since his father, the Sheriff, had already left early. He opened the Jeep door and got in, starting the car and turning up the radio. He tapped his hand on the steering wheel to the tune of _All Night_.

" _We could do this all night_

 _Yeah, everything is alright._ "

He reached the stoplight and looked at the next car over, instantly regretting it. It was a jet-black Porsche and in the front seat was Jackson and beside him, his girlfriend Lydia Martin. Stiles used to have the biggest crush on Lydia, but as she wanted nothing to do with him and Stiles slowly came to the realization that he was gay, it dissolved and he just tried to stay out of their way. The Porsche's windows were rolled down and Stiles could hear Jackson's loud, obnoxious laughter.

"Stilinski!" Jackson called out and Stiles groaned, wishing that his beat-up blue Jeep wasn't so damn recognizable. He shot Jackson and Lydia a forced smile.

"Hey, guys, what's up?"

"Don't sound so good-natured, dork. We're doing dodgeball in gym today and your ass is mine." Jackson pointed a finger at Stiles, smirk plastered on his model-like face, and the boy gulped. Every time Coach Finstock made them play dodgeball, it usually ended with at least half the class in the nurse's office, and Jackson, Scott, and a couple of their lacrosse teammates were always victorious.

Stiles, as always, had to keep his bravado up, so he scoffed and looked right back at Jackson, twinkle in his eye. "Knew you always liked holding balls, Whittemore. Maybe that's why you're dating the girl who's had the most out of anyone at school. Hoping she can get you some more."

Lydia shot him a disgusted glare and flipped her strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder, folding her arms and giving Jackson a look, as if telling him to beat up Stiles.

"You're fucking dead, Stilinski," Jackson called out, clenching the steering wheel as the light turned green. He sped away and Stiles pulled off to the side of the road. He knew he had a big mouth. Being only 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, sarcasm was his only defense. But now, surely enough, Jackson would break some of those bones in gym class.

* * *

Usually, Stiles would be ambushed upon immediate entry through the front doors of Beacon Hills High School, but when he stepped through the threshold, there were only students milling about before classes began. Stiles released his held-in breath and began his trek to homeroom when, and it honestly didn't surprise him, he was yanked into the nearest boys' bathroom and held up against the wall.

"Hey, Stilinski." Stiles felt the sink beneath him, propping his hands up onto it. Scott loomed dangerously close to him, clearly invading his personal space. "Got my work done?" Stiles fought the urge to gag, the tan boy's aftershave was getting to be too much.

"Maybe if you didn't waste all that Bay Rum, McCall, I'd be much more willing to do your math homework." Scott scowled and fisted Stiles' hoodie into one hand. "Hey, lay off the hoodie, man. It didn't do anything to you."

"Do you ever shut up?" Scott pulled his fist back. "Because I'll shut you up for good."

"Oh, that's really original," Stiles sassed. "Who writes your material? Jackson? Matt, perhaps? He's always been quite a charmer. Not like you, however."

Scott threw his fist and stopped it an inch before striking Stiles' jaw. Stiles had shut his eyes but opened them slowly when the blow never came. "You're not gonna hit me? That's not like you."

"No, I'm not gonna hit you." Scott released Stiles' front and the black-haired boy slumped against the sink. "I'm going to give you one chance to grovel at my feet or I bust up your pretty little face."

The words were not lost on Stiles and his cheeks tinged pink at the words 'pretty little face', but he knew better than to goad Scott like that and left it alone for the time being. Scott, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice, which didn't surprise Stiles at all. Unless someone gave him the answer in words he could comprehend, and Stiles wasn't about to, Scott had no grasp whatsoever on what was going on.

"Let's see," Stiles hoisted himself up onto the sink and looked deep into Scott's chocolate brown eyes, "you're an acerebral, nocent lurdane and it's a wonder how anyone doesn't see that." Scott frowned, clearly trying to process the big words. Stiles couldn't help but bite down on his lower lip to stiffle his laughter. "Welp," he put the emphasis and pop on the 'p', "I've had a wonderful time, only this wasn't it." Stiles stood up and straightened his hoodie, heading for the door.

Scott's arm shot out and blocked his way. "Not so fast, Stilinski," he growled. "I have this feeling that you just insulted me." Stiles snorted. "Might as well leave you with this." He slammed his fist into Stiles' gut, making the smaller boy double over and kneel on the white tile floor. "See you in gym class." Without another word, Scott left the bathroom.

"Fucking prick," Stiles grumbled, holding his stomach. He didn't know how long he stayed there, but he heard the familiar swing of the door and felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Stiles?" He looked up and there were his two best friends, Vernon Boyd and Erica Reyes. "Was it McCall?" Stiles nodded. "Ugh, he is such an ass. Like anyone's going to think that beating up the innocent is going to make girls like him."

Stiles couldn't tell them what Scott had said. Although Boyd was a man of few words, Erica couldn't keep a secret to save her life. "Come on, up you go." Boyd put one hand under Stiles' arm and helped him up. "We're late for homeroom."

Boyd and Erica assisted Stiles to the classroom and took their seats just as Mrs. Davis entered the room. Stiles exhaled sharply as he eased into his seat. Straightening up, he noticed three boys standing with the teacher.

"We have three new students today," she was saying. The tallest boy had golden curls that hung into his piercing blue eyes. "Isaac Lahey." The boy beside him was much shorter, his brown hair cropped but still sticking out here and there. "Liam Dunbar." The last boy was somewhere between Isaac and Liam, with jet-black hair and a little bit of facial stubble that Stiles could swear meant he was at least a senior. He was kind of lanky, but not as much as Isaac, and Stiles could see the abs through his tight black T-shirt. "Derek Hale."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N**_ : So, here's chapter 2. You'll see that Isaac is portrayed as a more energetic, happy kind of guy. He and Liam are this story's equivalent to the _Glee_ story's Nick and Jeff.

* * *

"Derek Hale." The name absorbed through Stiles almost as quickly as it had come. He watched the boy intently as Mrs. Davis talked, her words becoming white noise to Stiles. There was something alluring about the tall, dark and handsome boy and, of course being Stiles, he had to figure it out.

"Is there anything any of you would like to tell the class?" Mrs. Davis asked. Derek stepped forward and cleared his throat. Isaac and Liam sniggered quietly but Derek shot them a look and they silenced instantly.

"My name is Derek Hale and I moved back here to Beacon Hills to be close with my family. Previously, I attended St. Patrick High School in Chicago and that's where I met these two losers." Isaac and Liam looked affronted but said nothing. "They're like brothers to me and they offered to come back with me. We're living with my uncle Peter—"

Stiles swallowed. Peter Hale was the town recluse. Rumor had it that he'd killed a group of teenagers who'd vandalized his old mansion some ten years ago. No one has seen him come out of the house since.

"Well, we're glad to have you boys. There are a few open seats left. Take your pick. There's one there next to Stiles." Mrs. Davis pointed to the spot beside Stiles and Derek moved to sit there, but Isaac beat him to it. Isaac grinned cheekily up at Derek, who returned with a head shake and a small smirk, settling for the seat behind Kira Yukimura.

"I'm Isaac." Isaac turned to Stiles, hand extended in greeting. "Well, you already knew that if you were listening, which it kinda looked like you weren't. But hi." Stiles smiled weakly and accepted the gesture. "I saw you looking at Derek."

"What? No!" Stiles waved a hand. "Just interested in the new students..." He trailed off, casting a glance behind him towards Derek, who raised an eyebrow at Stiles. He turned back and pushed a hand through his hair.

Isaac watched this exchange with amusement. "Interested... right. Derek's very _interesting_ , don't you think?" Stiles didn't answer, but instead looked down at his homework folders. "Oh, please, he's hot. There's no denying that."

Stiles bit his lower lip and tried to escape his thoughts of seeing Derek without the T-shirt on. He squeaked quietly and Isaac's grin widened. Stiles buried his head in his hands to avoid further embarrassment.

Liam had taken up a spot behind Jackson, who turned to him and smirked. "So, new kid, where are you from?"

"Weren't you listening? Oh, wait, you were on your phone." Liam rolled his eyes. "Just turn around. I already don't like you." Jackson scowled but did so. "Idiot," he muttered to himself, casting a glance over to Isaac, who was trying to rouse Stiles.

"C'mon, I was kidding," Isaac grinned, poking him. "But, in all seriousness, he's gay too." Stiles peeked out from his arm, eyebrow raised. "Yeah, true story, totally. I mean, he had one girlfriend, but she—" Isaac squawked, a paper ball having hit him in the back of the head. Stiles looked back at Derek, who was glaring at Isaac.

Another paper ball came their way, Stiles turning back forward as the offending wad hit him in the side of the face. He rubbed his cheek and unwrapped the paper to see a crude drawing of a stick figure, identified as 'Stiles' by an arrow, being pelted with dodgeballs. He swallowed hard and sunk in his seat. Isaac looked over.

"Wow, must be a real Picasso, whoever drew this," he muttered. Stiles groaned and covered his face. "What period do you have gym?"

"Fifth."

"So do we," Isaac grinned. "We'll protect you."

"But you barely know me." Stiles looked up at Isaac.

"So? That doesn't mean we can't help out our new friend."

* * *

Stiles bid farewell to Derek, Isaac, and Liam after class and headed for his first period chemistry with Mr. Harris, who loved to insult Stiles as much as possible. Stiles made himself comfortable in the furthest back row and took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. Scott was also in his class and he would try to get Stiles in as much trouble as he could when near him. Looking around the room and seeing every table already occupied and Scott nowhere in sight only meant that Stiles would be paired up with the idiot once more.

"McCall, why the hell are you always late?" Harris barked from the board. Scott had opened the door and sauntered in.

"Got held back in homeroom," Scott replied coolly.

"You're going to be held back in your sophomore year if you don't get your grades up," Harris shot back. "Now pair up with Stilinski." Stiles groaned more audibly than he would have intended. "Quiet, Stilinski!"

Scott slid into the seat beside Stiles and flashed him a sadistic grin. "You are so fucked, you little asshole," he murmured. "Sir?" He called out, putting his hand up. "I forgot my textbook again and Stilinski won't let me share with him."

Harris grumbled something under his breath and turned around, rubbing his forehead. "I am not running a kindergarten, you two. Stilinski, share your book with McCall and shut him up." Stiles opened his book to the assigned page and placed it between him and Scott.

"You are such a dick," he hissed. Scott only smirked and kicked Stiles under the table.

"Now I am going to pair you up and, in one week's time, you will present the class with a _simple_ , key word here being _simple_ , science experiment that doesn't explode. I'm looking at you, Stilinski." Stiles flushed a little bit. Harris looked around at the class. "Screw it. Just work with your table partner."

Scott sidled up to Stiles and put an arm around him. "So, partner, what's our project?"

 _Shit_.

* * *

The bell rang and everyone collected their belongings. Stiles stayed in his seat; he was unable to get anywhere with Scott in terms of experiment ideas, instead Scott began to nitpick all of Stiles' faults, including aspects that were far out of his control. The first bell went off just as Scott's abuse hit a new low: that Stiles' mother's death was his fault. As always, Scott was full of shit, as Claudia Stilinski's death was genetic and Stiles had to witness his mother's behavior worsened.

Stiles took a sharp inhalation and tried his damnedest not to cry. "Don't cry," he whispered to himself. "Don't you dare cry. Not now. Not here."

"Stilinski, get to your next class!" Harris looked up from his paperwork and Stiles grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He headed into the corridor and looked around. Boyd and Erica would already be in their second period English and Stiles was supposed to be in History on the other side of the school.

"Hey, are you okay?" A female voice asked. Stiles spun around to see Allison Argent smiling at him. "I saw you in homeroom with one of those new kids. You looked kind of uncomfortable."

Stiles cleared his throat and nodded. "I'm fine. Thanks, Allison." Allison eyed him suspiciously but nodded and walked off. As soon as Allison turned a corner, Stiles exhaled deeply and started for his next class when he was grabbed and yanked down the hallway to the locker room. "What the—?"

"Shut it, Stilinski. Just get your pert little ass in here," Matt Daehler growled, pushing the door open and shoving him inside, right into Jackson, who only caught him and slammed him against a locker.

"Ow..." Stiles reached to rub his lower back, which had been jabbed by a lock. "What do you wa—?" He started to say until all the air went out of him; Jackson punched him in the stomach.

"That's for calling Lydia a slut, you little shit," Jackson growled. Matt hurried to Jackson's aid, pulling Stiles back up for him to hit again. "And this is for existing." He brought his knee up into Stiles' gut. "Nobody likes you, Stilinski. Not even your so-called friends, the she-spaz, she's almost as bad as you, and Eegah..."

"Whoa, you're cultured," Stiles managed to wheeze, trying to struggle away from Matt, who only tightened his grip. "In that case, you're a Kwyjibo." Jackson looked confused and Matt slightly lessened his hold on Stiles. Feeling triumphant, Stiles wriggled away from Matt and stood, facing the two jocks. "It means a big, dumb, balding North American ape with no chin and a short temper. However, you're not balding, so..." Jackson's face contorted into anger. "Uh oh, Kwyjibo on the loose!" He ran out of the locker room, Jackson and Matt hot on his heels.

Stiles ducked in and around the students just going into class and dived headfirst into the history classroom. Mr. Yukimura looked down at him, eyebrow raised. "Mr. Stilinski, why the extravagant entry?"

The final bell rang just then and Stiles stood up, dusting himself off. "Just in time."

* * *

Derek, Isaac, and Liam had to separate after homeroom, Liam in one direction, Derek and Isaac in the other. As they walked to class, Isaac turned to Derek. "Hey, Dere, I'm sorry I almost told Stiles about Paige—" Derek covered his mouth with a hand.

"Just don't bring it up again, okay?" Isaac nodded and Derek removed his hand. "If there was any way to shut you up, it would have to be something that would take your easily distracted mind away from it."

"Well, on a lighter topic, Stiles is like totally in love with you." Derek didn't say anything; he only looked at Isaac, eyebrow raised in skepticism. "No, seriously. He wouldn't even deny it when I said that you're hot."

Derek chuckled a little and put an arm around Isaac. "Buddy, you're going to need to learn to shut your mouth more often. It's going to get you in serious trouble one of these days." They arrived at their math period. "Ready for round two of being introduced and stared at?" Isaac leaned his head on Derek's shoulder for a moment before opening the door.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N**_ : Yeah, I don't fully understand why I love to torture the hell out of my protagonists, but, you have to admit, it makes for a good story.

* * *

Derek, Isaac, and Liam reconvened in the short break between second and third periods. Liam looked a little downtrodden from afar but he brightened up as soon as he spotted his two best friends.

"Guys!" He jumped up, trying to gain the two taller boys' attention. He mentally cursed his genetics that made him short and proceeded to push and shove his way through the throngs of students until he stumbled, about to hit the tile floor when strong arms caught him. Liam looked up to see Isaac and Derek trying to hold in their laughter, and he looked back to see that it was Stiles who caught him.

"You should try out for football or lacrosse or something," the boy said, pulling Liam to his feet. Liam dusted himself off despite never actually hitting the floor. Derek and Isaac knew Liam too well, especially in that the smallest of their group preferred to do things by himself.

"Thanks," Liam mumbled, picking up his backpack and tossing it over his shoulder.

"No problem." Stiles beamed and earned his first—and he would remember it forever—genuine smile from Derek. "So, what's your third period? I have Econ with Coach Finstock. He's kind of a blowhard, but he's actually pretty cool." Stiles looked around nervously; it was another period where he was usually stuck near Scott.

Isaac observed Stiles' behavior. "Dude, you alright?" Stiles nodded, trying to hold back on telling these guys—these awesome, incredibly hot guys—all of his bullshit. "Look, I don't want to pry, but—" Derek once more put a hand over his mouth.

"Then don't." Isaac mumbled something from behind Derek's hand.

Liam spoke up as Derek was tasked with keeping Isaac quiet. "A-are you being picked on, Stiles?" His voice was quiet and, judging from his tone, Stiles felt that the other boy had been a victim as well. "I know the signs of trying to hide it." Stiles didn't realize it until it was too late; a tear slid down his cheek.

"Who is it?" Derek asked, leading Stiles into an empty classroom, Isaac and Liam right behind them. Stiles kept his eyes trained to the floor, not wanting to bring more pain on himself. Last time he told someone that Scott and Jackson were bullying him, Stiles ended up in the hospital with several bruised ribs. "Stiles, you can tell us," he whispered. "We won't let them hurt you anymore."

"I— I can't. It just gets worse every time I tell someone who could help," he sniffled, wiping his tears away on his sleeve.

"Maybe you just need someone who can actually do something about it." Liam sat down on a desk facing Stiles. "At our old school, despite their zero-tolerance policy on bullying, I was still stuffed into lockers because of my size. When I befriended Derek and Isaac, it never happened again."

Stiles took a deep breath and raised his head, looking intently at the three boys. "Jackson Whittemore and Scott McCall."

* * *

Econ was eventful, to say the least. Derek, Isaac, and Liam had taken up three surrounding seats, putting Stiles in the middle. Scott walked in late, as always, and gave Stiles a smirk as he placed himself behind him. On both of Stiles' sides, Derek and Liam kept an eye on Scott to ensure that he didn't threaten Stiles in any way; however, that didn't stop Scott from leaning over every so often and whispering in Stiles' ear.

"You may have your bodyguards, _Stiles_ ," Stiles shivered at the way Scott said his name, "but you're mine for the next week. Remember, you still have a science project to do." As Coach was preoccupied with yelling at Greenberg, Stiles turned to face Scott.

"No. I will not be the one who does the entire project on his own. Either you help me in some way or we both fail, and I know you don't want to be held back, _Scotty_." Stiles returned his attention towards the front. Scott looked dumbstruck; Stiles actually stood up to him. Yeah, he fired back with sarcasm and sass, but never had he bluntly chewed Scott out.

Scott leaned back over and grabbed the back of Stiles' shirt. Derek moved to disable Scott, but he caught Liam's head shake and retreated. "You'd better learn your place, Stilinski. Not unless you want to end up in the hospital again. I will personally see to that it's more than just a few bruised ribs, maybe broken this time." Stiles wrenched away from Scott and put his head down on the desk.

Liam gave Derek a small nod and moved to talk to Scott. "Hey, leave Stiles alone," he hissed. "He doesn't want to deal with you, so you yourself had better learn to lay off." Scott stared at the small boy in surprise before reaching over and pushing him back.

"Mind your own fucking business, twerp. This is between myself and Stilinski." Isaac turned long enough to see Scott shove Liam and stood up, fists clenched. Most of the class had turned their attention towards the exchange.

Coach stepped in just as Liam was about to launch himself at Scott. "Break it up, you little delinquents!" He shouted. "If you're going to rip each other's throats out, do it on your own time. McCall, I don't want to hear your voice for the rest of the period." Scott was about to attempt to defend himself but Coach blew his whistle and Scott sat back, pouting slightly. "Bilinski, what the hell did you do?"

Stiles was a lot of things, but one he was not was a snitch... well, not anymore. "Just a misunderstanding, Coach, that's all," he said mildly. "McCall simply heard us wrong and, as always, acted irrationally." Stiles was actually satisfied to hear Scott growl from behind him.

"Yeah, whatever," Coach grumbled. He pointed at Scott warningly and went back to his desk. Liam eased back into his seat, as did Isaac. Derek gave them both warning looks and reached out, putting a hand on Stiles' shoulder. Scott's eyes darted between Stiles and Derek, sinking lower in his seat.

* * *

"I said I was sorry!" Jackson followed Lydia like the puppy dog he was to her. "C'mon, Lyds, the little shit deserved it. He basically called you a slut!" Lydia turned, hand on her hip and glaring up at Jackson.

"That does not mean you beat him up. I am fully capable of taking care of myself and I don't need you damaging every guy who talks about me in whatever way. Besides, Jackson, simply existing is not a good reason to beat someone up." Jackson looked after her, jaw dropped. Stilinski couldn't get within ten feet of her to tell her that, so it had to be...

Jackson ran off in the opposite direction towards Woodshop and found Matt, as always the last one there, putting his tools away. He grabbed the other boy by the collar and held him on the table.

"Dude, you're telling Lydia what happened to fucking Stilinski?" He growled, pressing Matt's face into the cold metal tabletop. "I thought we were bros?"

Matt struggled to sit up, but Jackson was stronger than him. "Fuck off, Jackson," he snarled. "I haven't been anywhere near Lydia all day. Maybe someone else was there or Stilinski told someone. Get off!" Jackson let go of the boy and paced back and forth. "Geez, dude, what's up your ass?"

"Someone told Lydia why we beat up Stilinski—"

"Correction, _you_ beat up Stilinski." Jackson stopped and glared at him. "Go on."

Jackson resumed his pacing and Matt finished cleaning up. "You think those new kids were spying on us? That black-haired guy is into Stilinski."

"I don't know," Matt shrugged. "I don't really care." He hitched his backpack over his shoulder and made to leave but Jackson intercepted him. "Jackson, I have a test to get to, and, unlike you, I can get good grades without bribing teachers. Look, Stilinski's in my next class and, if it makes you feel better, I'll keep an eye on him."

Jackson nodded. "Just don't watch his ass the entire time." This earned him a dirty look from Matt.

* * *

"Okay, after this is lunch, so let's just get through it without incident," Stiles said to Isaac, who nodded. "Don't worry, neither Scott nor Jackson are in this class, so there's less chance of an altercation."

"Aw, Stilinski, you forgot about me. I'm truly hurt." Matt shoved past Stiles, smug look all over his face. "Besides, you're my study buddy, remember?" Stiles swore under his breath and gave Isaac a pleading look, but went over to one of the few remaining empty tables behind Matt. Isaac watched him go and put his bag down next to a boy with cropped black hair, who introduced himself as Jordan.

"Stilinski, stop casting glances over at that dork and help me here." Matt jabbed at Stiles' side with a pencil. "I need to pass this test or else I'm fucked."

"You know, Matt, maybe if you didn't hang out with Jackson, whose asshole behavior is rubbing off on you, people would like you more." Stiles didn't bother looking at Matt as he said so; instead, he focused on the list of words he had to memorize.

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a fucking spaz, Stilinski, people wouldn't treat you like shit," Matt retorted. "Now if you don't help me pass this stupid test, I'm going to deck you."

Stiles cast another pleading look over to Isaac, who caught it and nodded, excusing himself from Jordan and hurrying over to Stiles. "I think we should change seats," he whispered. Matt opened his mouth to object but Stiles was already packed up and on his way over to sit by Jordan.

"You need to leave Stiles alone," Isaac told Matt, who rolled his eyes.

"Or what?"

A moment later, everyone turned to see Matt on the floor, crying out in pain and holding his side. Stiles looked wide-eyed up at Isaac, who smirked and held up a blood-stained pencil.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N**_ : Here, lunch, fifth period gym (finally), the aftermath (part one), and a flashback. And mind you, this is over 2000 words and longer than most anything I write.

* * *

Matt was sent to the nurse's office while Isaac had stashed the pencil away and whistled innocently as if he had nothing to do with what just happened. As no one really witnessed what had transpired, Ms. Blake only said that she was going to be watching Isaac from then on. Stiles stared at the curly-haired boy in awe. Not only was it because he, Derek, and Liam had decided to become his personal bodyguards, but he didn't really peg any of them to be particularly violent, well, maybe Derek, but Isaac and Liam, definitely not.

"You know," Jordan whispered, "what those guys like Matt, Jackson, and Scott put you through... well, I'm sorry that happens. No one should ever have to be treated like that. If you want, and feel free to decline, I can teach you how to fight." Stiles looked at the boy curiously. He'd never talked to him before and Stiles, even being the Sheriff's son, knew nothing about Jordan Parrish, except that his father died in combat about two years earlier.

"I would actually love that," Stiles grinned. Maybe if he could stand up for himself, the bullies would back off... or, in a much more likely case, he'd get an even worse beating. But, hey, what else could he lose? He had two best friends who always helped him up when he was knocked down, with the likelihood of keeping his three new ones, along with Jordan if all went well. Despite everything in the past four hours, life was looking up for Stiles Stilinski.

The bell rang a few minutes later and Stiles put his books in his backpack. Standing up, he shook Jordan's hand, the two exchanging phone numbers, and walked to the cafeteria with Isaac, who kept a firmly placed smirk on his face.

"What are you so happy about?" Stiles looked up at the blond boy. "I mean, thank you for making Matt go away, but like that? Really?"

Before Isaac could reply, Derek and Liam came over to them, Derek looked angry. "Isaac, what did you do? I heard whispers that you stabbed someone with a pencil." Liam snorted, trying to conceal his laughter.

"Word travels fast around here," was all Isaac had to say, smirk still in place. "The guy was an asshole, Dere. He was asking for it. Remember that promise we made earlier about protecting Stiles because you want to f—" Derek clamped a hand over Isaac's mouth once more.

"There goes that mouth again. It doesn't know when to shut up." Derek tsked and led Isaac away from Stiles and Liam. Stiles looked at Liam, who only shrugged and took Stiles' arm, leading him towards the cafeteria. Taking up spots at a presently empty table, Stiles went to go get his lunch when someone intercepted him.

"You've been holding out on us!" Erica put a hand on his chest. "I've been sending you texts all morning, none of which you replied to. Where did you get them?"

"Get what?" Stiles asked, as clueless as ever.

"She's talking about the, and I quote, amazingly hot guys who've been defending your honor, unqoute," Boyd explained.

Erica tapped her foot impatiently. "Stiles Stilinski, you tell me right now if any of those boys are single. If you don't, I'll tell them your real name."

Stiles raised an eyebrow as a challenge. "You wouldn't. You can't even pronounce it."

"That may be, but I know how to spell it. Let's see. M-I—" It was Stiles' turn to put a hand over Erica's mouth.

"Okay. Just stop right there." He removed his hand and Erica tilted her head, waiting. "I really hate to rain on your parade like this, but I think they're all gay."

"Who's all gay?" Liam piped up. "If you're asking about Derek, Isaac, and myself, Dere's gay, and Isaac and I are bi." Erica smiled mischievously and Liam took a step back. "Although I lean more towards guys," he added quickly.

Erica pouted for a moment before brightening up. "Well, blondes gotta stick together," she said simply before running off to find Isaac. Stiles and Boyd shared a look and the latter followed her.

"She scares me," Liam mumbled from behind Stiles, who chuckled and put an arm around the smaller boy.

"Yeah, she has that effect on people," he agreed. "Let's get some energy in us because next period is going to be a bitch."

* * *

"Okay, shirts versus skins," Coach shouted, blowing his whistle. "Whittemore, McCall, Daehler, Parrish, Dye, and Boyd, you're shirts. The rest of you, Bilinski, Lahey, Hale, Dunbar, Hewitt, and Talbot, are skins. Take 'em off!"

Stiles felt his face heat up as he pulled his T-shirt off. "This whole thing is just an excuse for those assholes to make our lives even harder," he murmured to Liam, who nodded in agreement.

"Stiles, you know I hate this game more than anything, and, as your friend, I'm going to avoid any chance of having to hit you," Boyd whispered once he'd gotten away from Jackson, who was loudly instructing his teammates to go for Stiles at all costs.

Matt was watching Stiles closely as he stood beside Scott. "You're dead," he mouthed, picking up one of the red rubber balls. Stiles swallowed and glanced over at Isaac, whose smirk had returned as he observed Matt. He could indistinctly hear Isaac telling Derek and Liam that he was going to hit Matt where it hurt.

"Coach, shouldn't Daehler sit out because of his wound?" Jordan asked. Coach waved his hand and leaned back against the bleachers.

"Hey, Parrish, we're on the same team, you prick!" Matt growled. "You'd better be careful unless you want one of these hitting you in the face from your own side."

Liam was with Brett and Mason, talking animatedly with them. Isaac and Jordan were talking up a storm about comic books, as Stiles joined in. Derek looked at the boys he considered his brothers; not only did they befriend Stiles, but Liam and Isaac were making friends left and right. Derek was never good at making friends and he had Liam and Isaac, which was really all he needed, but Stiles... Stiles was different. There was something there that Derek found attractive. Maybe it was the flailing or the puberty that stood so clearly on Stiles' complexion. The sass he displayed or his bravery to withstand almost whatever came his way. It was someone like that Derek wanted to be with. He just had to figure out how to tell him.

"On your separate sides!" Coach yelled and the twelve boys split in half. "Go!"

At the blow of the whistle, six balls were thrown, heading directly for Stiles, but his teammates knocked all but one out of the way and Stiles caught the remainder, as thrown by Garrett, who looked pissed but kept running.

"Hey, Coach, isn't he supposed to be out?" Liam called.

"You don't know how we play here, new kid," Jackson sneered, throwing a ball that hit Liam in the chest. "Only way out is to get hit." Liam rubbed his upper body and moved off to the side. Jackson high-fived Scott and Scott picked up a ball, which got Brett out.

Derek kept a close eye on Stiles, whose awkward movements actually made him pretty capable at dodging. He caught a ball launched by Scott and sent it back, hitting the black-haired boy in the gut. Scott doubled over holding his stomach.

"Doesn't feel too good when you get hit, huh, McCall?" Stiles shouted over the others' jeering. Scott shot Stiles a dirty look and went off to the side. Garrett caught the rebound Stiles threw and fired back, striking Mason. A loud cry of pain rang out as Isaac hit Matt in his injury.

"Fuck!" Matt whined, holding his side. "You did that on purpose!" Isaac only grinned and caught another ball, tossing it towards Boyd, who made no attempt to catch it. It hit him in the shoulder and he shrugged, walking to the outer lines.

"Hey, you weren't even trying!" Garrett hollered, narrowly dodging two balls as thrown by Stiles. "Stilinski, if you even get so lucky as to hitting me, I'm going to make your life an even bigger living hell than Jackson makes it!"

"You hurt him any more and you're history!" Isaac yelled, throwing a ball as hard as he could, which struck Garrett in the groin. The blond went down instantly. Stiles looked at Isaac, as if he were his new hero and high-fived him. As they were occupied, Jackson aimed for Stiles' head but aimed too high and the ball sailed over his head, right into Isaac's outstretched hands.

Jordan was standing beside Jackson, who glared at him and nodded to Stiles. "Do it." Jordan looked over at Stiles and Isaac. He didn't want jeopardize his impending friendship with Stiles, but, like nearly everyone else, he was somewhat intimidated by Jackson. "If you miss, I'm going to kick your ass," Jackson growled. Jordan looked up at Jackson, eyebrow raised.

"Well, we remember how that worked out last time," he said simply, handing the ball to Jackson and walking off the court. Stiles, Isaac, and Derek lined up, two balls each.

"Let's put an end to his shit." Stiles reared back, as did Isaac and Derek, and all at once, five balls hit Jackson in different parts of the body. The sixth hit Jackson square in the forehead and he fell backwards, only narrowly getting caught by Scott.

"This is a first," Coach said, walking over to the three boys. "Stilinski, Hale, Lahey, good job."

* * *

Jackson was carried to the nurse's office by Scott, Garrett, and Matt. Stiles went to his free period with Liam as Isaac and Derek shuffled off to their last periods.

"So what was private school like?" Stiles asked as he made paper airplanes with Liam, tossing them at their unsuspecting classmates. Liam snickered quietly as a black-haired girl looked at them, having been a victim of their flying paper.

"Uneventful," he replied, picking one up off the floor. "I mean, after Derek and Isaac found me, we were inseparable. We were always there for each other. Isaac, he's a goof but he means well. I mean, what he did to that jackass Matt was awesome. Derek's always been the quiet, broody one. It really started after his parents and older sister died in that plane crash seven years ago. I used to think that I was the third wheel because Derek and Isaac have been friends since they were kids. Derek never talks about his family. I heard about it from Isaac."

Stiles vaguely remembered something about that. He was only nine when it happened and then he recalled two boys in the other fourth grade class, one with black hair, the other blond, that moved away so suddenly. It was all coming back now: Derek, the boy who everyone feared because of his temper, and Isaac, the only person who Derek could apparently stand to be around for a long period of time. He'd had at least a few interactions with them, one stood out in particular.

 _ **FLASHBACK**_

Nine-year-old Stiles hid behind the tall gate, watching Lydia cheer Jackson on in the big kickball game. Stiles wanted so badly for Lydia to notice him as someone more than just the class weirdo, but Jackson always ensured that he never got anywhere near her, or else he got at the very least a bloody nose.

"Hey, spaz, what are you doin'?" Stiles jumped and turned to see Scott and Matt leering at him. "You really think Lydia would like a weirdo like you?" Scott shoved Stiles to the ground and sat on him. He scooped up a handful of dirt. "Open up, freak." Stiles shook his head and tried to wriggle away from Scott, but Matt bent down and held his legs still.

Scott was pulled off of Stiles and pushed away while Matt ran off at the sight of Derek and Isaac. Derek offered Stiles his hand and helped him up. Isaac dusted him off. Scott glared at the two larger boys before running off himself.

"Thanks," Stiles murmured, blushing a light red.

"No problem." Derek nodded. Just then, the bell rang and that was the last Stiles saw of Derek and Isaac.

 _ **END FLASHBACK**_

"They saved me," Stiles whispered. "Derek and Isaac saved me from Scott and Matt that day." Liam watched as Stiles came to this realization. "And then I never saw them again, not until today. I just wonder if Derek remembers..."


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N**_ : Got a lot of stuff going on now. Like I said on **_Children Will Listen_** , I will be alternating between writing that and this.

* * *

Derek sat in his sixth period Chemistry, barely listening as Mr. Harris lectured on about whatever. He couldn't take his mind off of Stiles. In fact, he remembered his last day in Beacon Hills before he moved. He and Isaac were never particularly popular, therefore they simply kept to one another.

 _ **FLASHBACK**_

"Dude, what are we doing?" Isaac asked for the millionth time in the past half hour. "Dere, it's our last day. We should make it special. Maybe go make ourselves legends at some schoolyard game."

"Isaac, how many times do I tell you you sound like a grown-up?" Derek looked up at his best friend. "Besides, it's not like anything special's gonna happen when there's only a couple minutes left for lunch." He spotted a small, lanky boy standing at the field gate, and two other boys making their way over towards him. From afar, Derek could see the tan one shove the smaller boy to the ground and sit on him, the other one holding his legs down.

"Hey!" Derek shouted, running over to them and pulling the first boy off of the other. "Leave him alone." The second of the two had run off upon seeing them. Isaac had just come over and the offender glared at them before taking off himself.

"You okay?" The boy nodded and sat up. Even for a nine-year-old, the boy wasn't very big.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"No problem." Derek nodded. At that moment, the warning bell rang and the kid got up, running off towards the main building. "Who is that kid?" He asked Isaac, who shrugged.

"I don't know."

 _ **END FLASHBACK**_

The door opened and Jackson walked in, his left eye purple, as well as a couple other minor bruises. He sent Derek a dirty look and sat down beside a boy he promptly shoved out of his chair. Derek rolled his eyes and felt his focus return to the teacher, who was pairing them up for some experiment they were supposed to turn in a week from today.

"Derek Hale and Jackson Whittemore." Derek's head jerked up, eyes wide. Did the guy just say... "Whittemore, get up and go to your partner!" Harris ordered. Jackson groaned loudly and moved.

Jackson scoffed as he eased himself into the seat beside Derek. "I'm not going to forget that you're behind this whole Stilinski becoming a badass thing," Jackson growled. "And Spazlinski's going to pay for it. Just remember that when the little shit sports a couple broken bones."

"If you hurt Stiles, I will end you." Derek narrowed his eyes at the blond, who smirked. "Maybe you're the one who should be watching your back, Jackass. Stiles has proved that he can stand up to you."

"Oh yeah, sure, when the twerp has his bodyguards," Jackson sneered. "Before you and your little friends showed up, he would snipe back for the first few rounds and then I kicked his ass." He leaned in close, lowering his voice. "Especially that one afternoon in the locker room..." He chuckled darkly and straightened up. Derek paled. He hated prying into people's lives but he had a really bad feeling about the meaning behind this.

* * *

Isaac was in his last period French class, where he noticed a pretty strawberry blonde girl getting everything Ms. Morrell was asking correct. He grinned and ran a hand through his curly blond hair. He had taken French at St. Patrick and had a pretty decent grasp on the language, a couple gender terms confused, however. When the teacher allowed a conversation break, only in French, of course, Isaac moved to talk to the girl.

" _Vous_ _ê_ _tes tr_ _è_ _s beau_ ," he stammered. The girl snorted, in the most feminine way Isaac ever heard, and turned to him.

" _Eh bien, vous_ _ê_ _tes tr_ _è_ _s joli_ ," she replied, smirking slightly. She leaned in close. " _Beau_ means handsome, you dork. I just said that you're pretty."

" _Vous pensez vraiment que je'm assez_?" Isaac raised an eyebrow, smile pulling at his lips.

" _Vous've a obtenu bien au sens de l'humour_." She scribbled something down on a slip of paper. " _Mon nom est Lydia_."

" _Mon nom est Isaac_." Isaac felt his throat dry. It wasn't often he found himself attracted to a girl, but there was something about _this girl_ , Lydia, that made his heart flutter. Ugh, the whole thing sounds so corny, especially in his head. He took the slip from her and glanced down, seeing her number. " _Merci, Mlle Lydia_."

" _La fonction Appelez-moi_ ," she whispered and turned back as Ms. Morrell called an end to the break.

"Wow," Isaac murmured, looking down at the number.

* * *

"Stiles?" Stiles had zoned out in the last ten minutes of free period. Liam poked him in the side. "Stiles, you there? Hello?" Stiles jerked out of his trance, limbs flailing. Liam stared wide-eyed at him and bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"What's going on?"

"Bell rang. School's over." Liam stood up, grabbing his backpack. "Let's go find Derek and Isaac." Stiles slipped out of his seat and followed Liam into the bustling corridor. "Hey, Stiles?"

"Yeah?" Stiles looked down at Liam, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Liam shifted slightly. "You know, we've only been here for one day and it's already better than St. Patrick has ever been to me. I mean, it's not like I don't love Dere and Isaac, 'cause I do. They're my brothers, but meeting you and protecting you from assholes like Jackson and Scott... well, I'm really glad we came here."

Stiles grinned and put an arm around Liam's shoulder. "I'm really glad you guys came here too. If you didn't, I never would have had the balls to stand up for myself the way I did today."

"Dude! Liam!" Isaac made his way over to the two and held up the slip of paper. "I got this girl's number! She's beyond flawless. She called me pretty." He reddened a little. "Because I accidentally called her handsome in French."

Liam shook his head, chuckling. "Only you would." He high-fived Isaac. "You get her name?"

"Yeah. Lydia." Stiles stopped in his tracks and he looked up at Isaac, eyes wide. "You'd think that saying 'call me' in French wouldn't take so many words though."

"Isaac?" The blond looked down at Stiles, still grinning. "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

Isaac frowned and tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean? A pretty girl gave me her number. What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing's wrong with that, but when the pretty girl in question, Lydia Martin, is dating one of the biggest assholes on the face of the Earth, then there's a problem." Stiles chose his words carefully. When neither Isaac or Liam said anything, he elaborated. "She's dating Jackson Whittemore."

"B-but she told me to call her," Isaac murmured, looking down at the paper. "I thought she was flirting with me..."

Derek came over and put his hands on Isaac's shoulders. "Hey, dude, what's wrong?"

"Hot girl gave Romeo here her number," Liam explained. "Turns out said hot girl is girlfriend to giant douchebag who we knocked out in gym."

Derek grimaced. "Oh, damn, Isaac, I am so sorry. Sometimes girls just like to mess with guys, especially the ones that are clearly romantics." Isaac nodded, bottom lip sticking out slightly in a pout. "Besides, any girl who would go out with that idiot Whittemore, you deserve way better than that." Isaac nodded again, leaning his head on Derek's shoulder.

"Hey, Stilinski. Let's go get started on our project." Scott came over and, giving the three new students a dirty look, grabbed Stiles by the upper arm, dragging him away. Stiles didn't try to fight it. He only waved to Derek, Isaac, and Liam.

* * *

Jackson walked outside, still hurting all over from gym class. He strode over to his Porsche, which had been keyed. "Motherfucker," he muttered. The assault had ranged from the driver's door all the way to the back. The trunk was ajar. Jackson stood to the side as he opened the door, expecting to find an explosive but found his lacrosse gear torn to shreds and his crosse broken in half.

"Who the fuck did this?" He shouted, making people look over. "Who?!" His best friend, Danny Mahealani, came over and looked down at Jackson, who was kneeling on the concrete, staring in horror at the remains of his gear.

"Why does this not surprise me?" Danny knew Jackson was a bully and a pretty violent one at that, so someone decided to pull some kind of vindictive attack on him wouldn't be completely uncalled for. Jackson looked up at him, eyes blank. "Okay, come on, get up." He put a hand on the blond's shoulder, pulling him to his feet. Closing the trunk, he leaned Jackson against the back of the car. "First question. Who did you piss off enough to warrant this?" Jackson opened his mouth to reply, but Danny held up a hand. "This does not seem like something Stilinski would do, or allow to happen, so don't even suggest it."

"Those new kids. Stilinski's self-appointed bodyguards. The little one. He seems like he'd have anger issues. They did this to me because of fucking Stilinski. McCall would be next on their shit list, then probably Daehler." Danny sighed. He'd met Derek, Isaac, and Liam already and they all seemed pretty cool. He also saw the way they protected Stiles and was silently glad that someone was doing it. It wasn't that Danny didn't like Stiles; it was more of a pecking order kind of thing.

"Jackson, look, just take a deep breath. I'll help you get new stuff. Don't do anything stupid, like seek revenge or beat up Stilinski, okay? Not until we find the real culprit. And don't worry, I'll help you." Jackson's head moved in something of a nod. "Alright, let's go." He helped Jackson into the passenger seat and, getting into the driver's side, drove off.

* * *

Stiles looked around Scott's room. He'd never been in here before, granted him and Scott were never friends. Scott's mother—a nurse at Beacon Hills Memorial—was at work, leaving the two of them alone. Stiles remembered the stories surrounding his father, who left when Scott was young. Scott emerged from the connected bathroom and sat on the bed beside Stiles.

"So got any ideas?" He asked, glancing over at him. "And something that doesn't make me look like an idiot."

"Hard to do." Scott glared at him. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"Stilinski, seriously, I would actually like to pass this class. If you don't help me, I am going to hurt you. Badly." Scott cracked his knuckles in a threatening manner. "If I get held back, you're going down with me."

Stiles snapped his fingers as if he'd had a great idea. "I got it! How about the scientific reason as to why you seem to act like a fucking asshole almost all the time?" Scott growled quietly but did nothing. "I don't get it, McCall. For eight years, you treat me like crap, when I have done absolutely nothing to you to even deserve being treated like so." He took a breath. "And so here we are, faced with the eternal question. What is it about me that you hate so much that you have to abuse me at every possible chance?" Stiles folded his arms and turned to face Scott, who kept his attention forward. "We're not going any further until you give me a legitimate reason. Is it because I'm kind of a spaz? Because I suck at sports? Because I'm smart? Is this whole thing because you're in some kind of gay denial?"

Without another moment's hesitation, Scott turned and grabbed Stiles by the front of the shirt, kissing him forcefully. Once he was released, Scott ran out of the room, leaving Stiles sitting in shock. He touched his lips and blinked a few times.

"What the fuck?"

* * *

Loose French to English translations: (trust me, at least this time, I did NOT use Google Translator)

- _Vous_ _ê_ _tes tr_ _è_ _s beau_ \- You are very handsome.

- _Eh bien, vous_ _ê_ _tes tr_ _è_ _s joli_ \- Well, you are very pretty.

- _Vous pensez vraiment que je'm assez_ \- You really think that I'm pretty?

- _Vous've a obtenu bien au sens de l'humour_ \- You've got a sense of humor.

- _Mon nom est Lydia/Isaac_ \- My name is Lydia/Isaac.

- _Merci, Mlle Lydia_ \- Thanks, Miss Lydia.

- _La fonction Appelez-moi_ \- Call me.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N**_ : I apologize for the inconsistent French translations from Chapter 5. No further translations will be supplied. This next chapter is split into Stiles dealing with the kiss, Scott dealing with the kiss, Jackson dealing with the aftermath of the blow to his reputation, and Stiles' REAL first kiss (hint, hint).

* * *

Stiles left the McCall house after managing to collect himself enough. Scott was nowhere to be found, but Stiles didn't think he'd be able to look at him the same way ever again. The scene kept replaying over and over in his head.

" _Is this whole thing because you're in some kind of gay denial?_ " And then Scott's lips were up against his own. They were warm, a little forceful but there was something about it that was gentle, as if Scott had had underlying feelings for Stiles for a really long time, but never acted on them because he had to put up a tough front. He remembered the day he came out to his friends.

 _ **FLASHBACK**_

"Guys, I have to tell you something," Stiles whispered, fidgeting with his hands. Boyd and Erica looked at each other and back at Stiles. Boyd put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Damn, I was going to be really straightforward with this..."

"You're gay, aren't you?" Erica blurted out and Boyd shot her a look. "What? Oh, come on, like he hasn't shown enough gay tendencies."

Stiles coughed and stared at Erica, wide-eyed. "You already knew?"

"Not only have we been your best friends since kindergarten, but how many other guys are vocal about their love of glam rock?" Stiles nodded a little. "Might I add, you dressed up as Ziggy Stardust for Halloween three years in a row and your favorite song for years on end—and still is—" _I Am What I Am_ " from _La Cage aux Folles_."

"She didn't have to blurt it out like that, but she's right." Boyd squeezed Stiles' shoulder. "You know both of us will always be here for you."

"I know." Stiles grinned and pulled both Boyd and Erica into a hug.

 _ **END FLASHBACK**_

Stiles exhaled and pulled out his phone. Sliding the lock screen, he found his wallpaper changed to the faces of Derek, Isaac, and Liam, Isaac clearly holding the camera. He smiled and chuckled a little before opening his contacts to call Erica, but his finger landed on Derek's number. Isaac must have snuck his phone out of his bag at some point and put all of their numbers in. Stiles licked his lips and took another deep breath before pressing the call button. It rang three times before the answer.

"Stiles?" It was Derek. "How did you get my number?"

"I think Isaac programmed my phone with your numbers, as well as this selfie he took with you and Liam as my new wallpaper." Derek must have pulled the phone away from his ear because Stiles could indistinctly hear him yelling at Isaac.

"I am so sorry about that," Derek apologized. "Isaac really is a little shit. He's skilled in pickpocketing, something I wasn't on board with!" He yelled this last part off the phone.

"Hey, Stiles!" Isaac said happily. He had wrestled the phone away from Derek and was now running downstairs to avoid Derek's wrath. "Like your wallpaper?"

There was something about Isaac's constant hyperactivity that made Stiles smile. "It's... it's very nice, thank you, Isaac. But, hey, are you guys busy? I really need someone to talk to."

"Yeah, totally! Come over and we'll—!" Isaac squawked and Derek regained control of the call.

"Please come over, Stiles. Hanging out with just Isaac is going to drive me crazy. Liam's at the lacrosse tryouts." Isaac opened his mouth to protest but Derek pushed him back down. "You know where the house is, right?"

Stiles nodded although he knew Derek couldn't see him. "Yeah, being the sheriff's son really his its perks, like knowing where some of the more secluded residences are."

"You're the sheriff's son?!" Isaac shouted.

"Shut up!" Derek pressed the blond boy to the dirt once more. "Nothing illegal, I swear."

* * *

Scott ran from his room and out the back door, holing up in the treehouse his father had built with him just before he left. He'd thought that once he came out with it and kissed Stiles, he'd feel better, but now he only felt worse. Stiles' list of reasons he thought Scott bullied him for, they were the reasons Scott liked Stiles so much. The kid was a spaz, he did suck at sports, he was smart. Scott was deeply in the closet. It was seventh grade when he even realized he liked boys, at least for the most part. There was one girl who Scott liked, but every time he tried to talk to her, she gave him a dirty look and walked away before a simple "Hi" could come out of his mouth. He knew he was a dick to people; he had to keep up appearances. Years ago, two months after his dad left, his mom took him to a psychiatrist, who told Melissa, in what was supposed to be confidential but Scott overheard them anyway, that Scott's acting out was a defense mechanism and that it would pass. Jackson was the one who had told Scott that if he became a pussy, Scott would suffer worse than anyone that they harassed.

Scott's phone buzzed and he pulled it out, running a wrist across his eyes. "H-hello?"

"Scotty?" Scott smiled softly. Dana was one of the few people who knew him best. "Scotty, what's wrong? You sound upset."

Scott barely contained a sniffle. "Remember that guy I told you about? The one I have so many feelings for but I still bully him?" Dana made a noise of acknowledgement. "I kissed him."

"And?" Dana pressed.

"I ran," Scott mumbled. "I couldn't tell if he kissed back or if he was frozen in fear, although it was probably the second one."

Dana sighed; Scott could just picture her running a hand through her lengthy red hair. "Scott, you know what I'm going to tell you because it's the same thing I've been saying since you told me you liked this guy, who, by the way, you never even gave me his name."

"Stiles. Stiles Stilinski."

Dana was quiet for a moment and then replied. "You mean the sheriff's son?"

* * *

Danny exhaled, leaning back onto Jackson's bed. "Okay, first off, before you go accusing Stilinski or the new kids, let's make a list of all the people you and/or Matt have bullied to a point where something like this would be—well, not justified—but not completely uncalled for, because, and trust me on this, you can be a grade-A douchebag."

Jackson was in his desk chair, looking at the ceiling, as he had been doing for the past hour. "Got it!" Danny stood up, snapping his fingers. "I was there when it happened. He was the only person who said that they would get you back for the—and I quote—"years of bullshit you've put me through"—unqoute." Jackson looked at him expectantly. "Kelvin Wolfe."

"Wolfe, seriously?" Jackson's eyebrows went up in skepticism. "That little twerp couldn't even take dodgeball..."

"You were aiming for his face," Danny pointed out.

"Little prick said that—" Jackson stopped, not wanting to remember what the other boy had uttered. Danny walked over to him and placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder. He recalled what was said and honestly didn't blame Jackson for wanting to knock Kelvin out.

 _ **FLASHBACK**_

"Fucking smart-ass twerp," Jackson hissed, brutally shoulder-checking Kelvin on his way out of the locker room. The much smaller boy stumbled, hitting a locker. He blinked back tears and glared after Jackson. A couple of his classmates looked at him, some in pity, most in the 'you asked for it' expression. One boy helped Kelvin up and gave him a small smile.

"Don't worry about Jackson," he'd said. "Once you stop reacting to his bullshit, he'll leave you alone."

"What about you?" Kelvin looked up at his savior. "I see Jackson and Matt always hurting you, even though sometimes you don't respond."

The boy shrugged. "They've been harassing me since grade school, so they're not letting up anytime soon. What'd you do to earn Jackson's wrath today?"

Kelvin looked at the tile floor, rubbing the front of his sneaker in the floor. "I may have showed him up in History."

He looked up at the other boy, who nodded. "Some teachers, Mr. Yukimura, for example, aren't easily swayed by Jackson's attempts to bribe a good grade. I'd love to say you did good, kid, but it's not going to get any easier from here."

"Bilinski! Wolfe! Get out here!" Coach shouted, making the tall boy flinch. He gave Kelvin a wry smile before running out to the court. Kelvin followed nervously, knowing deep inside that he was bound to get seriously injured in the next forty minutes.

"We're playing dodgeball and it's the same teams as last time," Coach was saying. "Wolfe, since you're back after your sick leave, you can be on the side you're standing on. Go!"

Kelvin ducked and weaved through the balls being thrown at him by Jackson and Matt. "Hey, wimp, why don't you be like your big brother and take it like a man?" Jackson sneered. "Oh, wait, didn't that get him blown up?" Kelvin winced; he hated being reminded that Justin died in combat, especially by assholes like Jackson.

"At least my parents didn't abandon me by supposedly dying in a car crash!" Kelvin fired back. "They knew you were going to be a total fucking asshole and bailed early!" Jackson paled and threw the ball in his hand as hard as he could, aiming at Kelvin's face. Everyone heard the impact and someone quickly caught Kelvin just before he hit the floor.

 _ **END FLASHBACK**_

Jackson mumbled something under his breath; Danny was unable to catch it but he wrapped his arms around the blond boy, who simply leaned his head on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, Jacks," Danny murmured into his ear. "You've always got me."

* * *

"So what's the deal with you and Scott?" Isaac asked. He was sitting on the downstairs couch with Derek and Stiles. "He really seems to enjoy torturing you." Stiles looked at his hands.

"Can you guys keep a secret?" Derek nodded. "I'm serious. Isaac, you can't tell anybody."

Isaac looked affronted. "I'm insulted, Stiles. Hurt, really. You think I can't keep a secret?" Derek snorted. "Oh, come on, just because of that one time?"

"Shut up, Isaac. Just keep your big mouth shut, okay?" Isaac pouted but nodded nonetheless. "Stiles?"

"He threatened me. I called him out on his bullshit, and then Scott, he—he kissed me." Stiles' voice was soft. "Once he pulled away, he ran off." He put a hand to his lips and looked at Derek. "That was my first kiss."

Derek leaned in close and put a hand on Stiles'. "Stiles, your first kiss isn't your first kiss unless you enjoyed it. So, really you're a virgin to being kissed."

"For the love of God, Der, just kiss him," Isaac groaned. "You've been wanting to since you saw him. He wants it too."

"Shut up, Isaac!" Stiles and Derek said in unison, then looked at each other, both blushing a deep red.

"You, uh—" Stiles started to say but Derek cut him off, lips on his. Isaac pulled out his phone and took a picture, sending it to Liam with a text.

" _Sterek is on. You owe me ten bucks._ "


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N**_ : So here we are again. A bunch of little vignettes on Scott, Stiles, and Jackson and Matt. I'm rescinding my all human AU because it just ended up writing itself this way.

* * *

Scott stayed in the treehouse. He saw his mom's car drive up and watched her enter the house. Looking down at his phone, he saw a new text message from Dana, who asked if she could come over to talk. He replied in the affirmative and she said she'd be over soon. Scott climbed down and went inside.

"Hey, Mom?" Melissa looked up and smiled at the sight of her son. "Dana's coming over and maybe we could order a pizza?"

"Sounds great, but I've got the late shift again tonight. I'm only here for a quick shower and then I'm off again. Say hi to Dana for me, okay?" Scott nodded and hugged Melissa, who looked surprised but hugged back. "Something wrong?"

"No, just..." Scott inhaled. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Scott. Now go clean up, you smell like you didn't shower today."

Dana arrived forty-five minutes later, about ten minutes after Melissa left again, and put her purse down on the counter and turned to face Scott, who was standing beside a just-arrived pizza box. "Scotty, come here." She opened her arms and Scott found himself hugging her tight. "Hey, kiddo, it's okay."

Scott sniffled and looked up at Dana, who smiled gently. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, pulling away. "It's been a while since we talked and I really needed one of your famous hugs."

"Okay, let's sit down and you can tell me all about this Stiles Stilinski."

* * *

"That was amazing," Stiles murmured once he'd pulled back from the kiss with Derek. "Can you believe that we only met seven hours ago and it feels like we've known each other for years?"

"God, that's so cheesy," Isaac mumbled, only to get his face covered with a pillow from behind.

"Shut up, Isaac! Don't ruin their moment," Liam said. He smiled at Stiles and Derek. "Hey, guys."

Isaac pushed the pillow away and looked up at Liam. "Where's my ten bucks?"

"You two bet on this happening?" Derek glared at them. Isaac and Liam had the decency to look moderately guilty. "I should be surprised and, yet, I'm not. Liam, pay Isaac and shut him up." Isaac's face lit up with glee as Liam grumbled and dug out a crisp $10 bill. "No more betting, either of you. One of these days, it's going to go south and you'll be in trouble. I need you guys." He wrapped a protective arm around Stiles and watched his two best friends. "Don't tell anyone about this yet."

"But you make such a cute couple," Isaac cooed and Liam sniggered. Derek rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to Stiles' temple.

* * *

"Dude, I don't think this is such a good idea," Matt said. He was sitting beside Jackson in his Porsche across the street from the Wolfe residence. "You don't even really know if he did it or not." If Jackson weren't so absorbed in revenge, he would have noticed Matt was extremely uncomfortable with being here.

"Shut it and follow my lead," Jackson growled, getting out of the car and walking slowly towards the house. Matt whimpered quietly but did as he was told. "You ring the doorbell and I'll ambush the twerp when the time is right."

Matt cursed under his breath and stepped up onto the porch. He hadn't been here since before Justin died and he knew from all the dirty looks Kelvin shot him after the accident, he wasn't going to have such a warm welcome. He raised a hand and rang the doorbell, waiting for an answer.

The door opened to reveal Mrs. Wood, who dropped the surname Wolfe following the death of her husband shortly after Kelvin was born. "Matthew, it's been forever," she said, a drink in hand. "How old are you now? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"Seventeen, ma'am." Matt smiled gently. "Is Kelvin home?"

"Come on in and sit down." She pulled Matt into the house and shut the door. "Kelvin, someone's here to see you! I'll be in the kitchen." Mrs. Wood stumbled briefly on her way out.

Matt heard the familiar stair creak and looked up to see Kelvin. "H-hey, Kel."

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

* * *

"You don't have to go!" Isaac wouldn't let go of Stiles as he tried to make his way to his Jeep. "Stay with us. You can go home in the morning."

"Let go of Stiles' shirt," Derek chuckled, putting a hand on Isaac's shoulder. "You don't want the Sheriff coming over, do you?" Isaac continued to whine and cling to Stiles. "Jeez, it's not like you're his boyfriend, Isaac. Let him go."

Stiles couldn't help but smile. "Is he always like this?" He asked, ruffling Isaac's curls, earning himself a content purr.

"Only when he's really attached to someone," Liam replied, grabbing Isaac's upper arm and pulling him away from Stiles. "Weren't you the one who thought it cheesy that we're acting like this and we've only known Stiles for like ten hours?"

"But he smells like home," Isaac mumbled. Stiles didn't notice but Liam and Derek looked wide-eyed at Isaac and Liam ushered Isaac back into the house.

Derek forced a smile and took Stiles' hand. "He'll be fine. Will you be okay driving home?"

"I know these roads like the back of my hand," Stiles grinned. "See you in the morning?"

"Definitely." Derek kissed Stiles again.

* * *

"So because he's kind of a spaz, sucks at sports, and smart, that's why you like him so much that you bully him in order to mask your true feelings?" Dana lifted the coffee cup to her lips. "That's kind of sweet, actually. Not the harassment part, clearly, but how much you like him."

Scott pushed the last piece of pizza around his plate. "But now I blew it, Dana. He'll never come near me because I acted on impulse and kissed him, just after threatening to hurt him."

Dana nodded earnestly and leaned forward. "What you should do is talk to him. Just ask to speak to him alone and out of the way, then explain yourself. No threats of bodily harm, no intimidation. Give Stiles the genuine Scott that I know." Scott opened his mouth to say something, but Dana cut him off. "And if he doesn't want to listen, give him some time. When you spring something like that on someone, you can't really expect them to be so forgiving, especially seeing as how badly you treated him in the past."

She was quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you something personal, Scott?" He nodded. "What is it about that Whittemore kid that you keep hanging out with him?" Scott exhaled deeply.

"He's blackmailing me."

* * *

Kelvin descended down the stairs and folded his arms defensively across his chest, glaring daggers at Matt. "I said, what the fuck are you doing here, Daehler? You're not welcome here anymore."

"Kel—"

"Don't call me that. You lost that privilege after what happened."

Matt backtracked and cleared his throat. "Kelvin, I came here because I needed to see you," he said, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket. "I'm sor—"

"Save it. Just because you were Justin's best friend doesn't mean you can waltz back in here after nine months—nine months, by the way, of relentless torture I suffered at the hands of you and Whittemore—and expect me to accept you back into my life just like that." Kelvin walked over to the tall boy and stared up at him. His voice became quiet, sort of sad. "Remember that time when Jus was sick and you let me hang out with you all day? The comic books, the superhero movies?"

Matt frowned; he did remember how he used to be with Kelvin because he was so close with Justin. After Justin's death, he couldn't hang around with Kelvin because of the pain he felt for losing his best friend. Unbeknownst to everyone else, it was also a time when Jackson felt he was losing his grip on keeping Scott reigned in that he decided to take Matt in, seeing how dejected he was.

"Kelvin, I'm— I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let Jackson take advantage of my vulnerable state and will you consider letting me be your friend again?" Kelvin eyed Matt suspiciously but, seeing the sadness in his eyes, smiled softly and embraced him.

"We'll give it a shot." Matt smiled, but wondered how the hell he was going to tell Jackson.

* * *

"Stiles?" Stiles had just gently closed the front door when he heard his father speak. He let go of the breath he'd been holding and locked the door before walking into the living room, where John Stilinski was sitting in his recliner, a glass of wine in one hand.

"Hey, dad," he said, smiling sheepishly. "I was—" Stiles paused, trying to come up with a convincing lie.

"I know where you were," John said calmly. "Haigh saw your Jeep at the old Hale house while on patrol." Stiles paled. "The real question I have is what you were doing there? I know that you know—very well, I might add—who lives there."

"Well, there's no use lying now." Stiles sighed in defeat and flopped down on the couch. "There were these new kids at school today. Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, and Liam Dunbar. They helped me and they're my friends."

"Helped you how? Are Jackson Whittemore and Scott McCall still giving you trouble, Stiles?" Stiles didn't look at his father, but his head moved as a nod. "How bad is it?" The Sheriff's voice was soft; he knew Stiles had been bullied by them for years.

"It's not that bad," Stiles mumbled. "Sure, a couple punches and locker shoves here and there, but it's not as bad as..."

John stood up and sat beside his son, pulling the teenager into an embrace. "I don't want to have to sit in the waiting room, worrying about you again. Promise me you'll take care of yourself. I can't lose you too."

"I promise." Stiles buried his face in John's shoulder.

* * *

"No, Derek, please don't tell him!" Isaac tugged on Derek's leather jacket. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say it out loud!"

Liam placed a comforting hand on Isaac's shoulder. "This is your first offense, buddy. He's not going to hurt you... hopefully."

"Isaac Lahey, not only do I wonder why my sister took you in before she passed, rest her soul, but why I ended up having to turn you. What is it that you beg so dearly for my nephew not to tell me?" Peter Hale opened the front door and stood in the frame, watching Isaac shrink back in fear. "Liam, what did he say?"

Liam looked over at Isaac, biting his lower lip before answering. "He said that..." Peter quirked an eyebrow. "W-we had someone from school over today and Isaac grew really attached to him. He said that Stiles—"

"What kind of a name is _Stiles_? Better question is why you had someone over in my absence, and yet the biggest query I have is what Isaac said and did this _Stiles_ hear him?"

Derek spoke up. "I don't think he heard him. Liam pulled Isaac into the house before anything else could be said, but he..." He glanced at Isaac, who was hiding behind the den wall. "He said that Stiles smells like home."

"Basement. All three of you. Now."


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N**_ : I'm sorry this took so long. It was only supposed to be a few weeks' hiatus, but the Marvel stories started writing themselves and, well, now it's been almost two months. Please don't kill me for what you're going to read here.

* * *

The next morning, Stiles woke earlier than his alarm. He looked at his phone. 5:30am. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, stretching. To think, less than twenty-four hours ago, he was that strange, lonely, and awkward kid, and now he had a bunch of new friends, a newfound confidence, and quite possibly a boyfriend. The only thing he worried about was how he was going to interact with Scott. He just couldn't get his mind off of the kiss; now that he thought about it, he really shouldn't be surprised, seeing as how almost every time Scott beat him up, it usually came with something more than the typical physical abuse. Sometimes, Scott's hands lingered on Stiles' person longer than usual. In grade school, whenever Scott picked on Stiles, it usually ended with Stiles on the ground with Scott on top of him.

"Holy crap," Stiles murmured. He couldn't believe he never realized it before, but there were so many signs pointing to Scott having a thing for him. And now he had six days to deal with Scott and that damn science project that there was no way Harris would let him out of. Maybe he would be better off doing the whole thing himself; that way there would be less awkward encounters with Scott.

His phone buzzed and Stiles picked it up to find a text message from an unknown number.

' _I need to talk to you. Meet me at school at 7. Alone._ '

The only person who would send him a message like this before six am and Stiles not already have their number logged would be Scott. How Scott got his number was a mystery, but Stiles decided not to dwell on that at the moment. He got out of bed, took a shower, and got dressed, picking his keys out of the bowl at the door. His dad was still asleep as far as he knew. Checking his phone once more for the time—6:43am—Stiles slipped out the front door and drove to school, parking in his usual spot and rolling down the window. It was a bright morning and he could see some of his teachers going inside early to prepare for the day.

"Stilinski." The passenger side door opened and Scott got inside. "Before you do anything, just hear me out, okay?" Stiles scooted slightly towards his door but nodded. "I— I don't know how to explain this, but, long story short, I'm into you. Like really into you." Scott kept his eyes down at his hands. "And at first, how I treated you was, I guess, kids being kids, but in seventh grade, it became more like I couldn't just let my guard down, but you noticed how it got more close? Like how I t-touch you longer and everything?"

"Scott, I just put the whole thing together myself this morning," Stiles replied softly. "Let me just make it easier on both of us. I'll do Harris' science project myself. No awkward situations, okay? I'll make sure you get credit for it."

Scott shook his head. "No. I want to do it too. Harris will know it's just you if I don't add a little something. I really do want to pass, it's just..."

"Some of it's pretty hard to take in all at once, huh?" Stiles shifted in his seat and looked at Scott, who nodded. "Let's make a deal. You lay off on harassing me and I'll tutor you. How does that sound?"

"That sounds awesome, Stiles," Scott beamed. "Thank you."

"No problem."

* * *

"Dude, what the hell happened to you last night?" Jackson demanded. He'd caught up to Matt in the hallway and pulled him into the boys' restroom. "I thought we agreed that I'd ambush the nerd after you got him to come outside."

Matt swallowed hard and looked up at the irritated jock. "Jackson, I— I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Clearing his throat, Matt continued, "I'm not doing it anymore. I don't want to be your little lackey or henchman or whatever I am. You took advantage of me, Jackson, when my best friend died and you used me to fulfill some fucked-up need to have someone to push around when it seemed like McCall wasn't around for you to shit on." Jackson glared at him. "I'm done, Jackson. I'll see you around." Without another glance, Matt left the classroom and finally exhaled.

"Hey, Matt!" Kelvin ran over to him. "Damn, did you—?" Matt nodded. "How'd he take it?"

"Well, he didn't hit me," Matt replied. "I guess that can be considered a success."

Kelvin beamed. "I concur. Hey, I got the latest issue of _Deadpool Volume 4_. Remember when you and I would read DP's lines together and we'd split on the boxes? Want to come over after school and go through the other issues?"

Matt felt himself break into a grin. "Sounds awesome."

* * *

"I don't wanna face Stiles like this," Isaac mumbled, allowing Liam to apply ointment on the wolfsbane scratches on his back. "He shouldn't have to deal with what we are. He's too innocent."

Liam snorted. "Dude, that guy is anything but innocent, but I do agree that he doesn't need to dabble in the whole werewolf thing. He has enough trouble as it is. What do you think, Dere?"

Derek sat down beside them and rubbed Isaac's shoulder. "We just try and keep it to ourselves for the time being, right, Isaac?" The blond nodded, playing with his hands. "I'm sorry you had to get so much of it, buddy. You're okay, right?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," he whispered, wincing a little at Liam's treatment.

"Sorry, man." Liam pulled Isaac's shirt down and stood up. "As long as we're not dragged into another shirts-versus-skins dodgeball game, there shouldn't be any questions."

Derek and Liam put their arms around Isaac and got out of the van. Liam had pointed out that the van that all three of them put money into buying heavily resembled something of a creeper van, but the other two shrugged this off.

"Hey, guys," Stiles' voice called. They looked up to see a bright smile on the excitable boy's face. Stiles dug his hands deep into his pockets and swayed a little on his feet. "What's up?"

Derek came forward and slid an arm around Stiles' waist. "A lot more now that you're here," he said softly, making Stiles blush slightly. Isaac and Liam looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Come on, you dorks," Liam said, rolling his eyes. "Let's get inside before we get bitched out for being late." The four boys entered the school; most of the still wandering students' eyes landed on Derek's arm around Stiles.

Isaac laid a hand on Liam's shoulder and led him away before he could say anything more, leaving Derek and Stiles to the crowd. "I got this," Derek whispered. He walked Stiles down the corridor, eyes forward. Stiles, however, couldn't help but move closer into Derek and bury his face in his side.

"Hey, Stilinski, looks like you're someone's new toy, huh?" Garrett seemingly stepped out of nowhere and blocked Stiles' path. "I know you're new here," he said to Derek, "but hasn't anyone told you that Stilinski here is a spastic good-for-nothing?" Stiles' eyes went to the floor.

Derek snorted. "Well, he's good for this." Without warning, Stiles found himself facing Derek and the stubble of Derek's chin tickled his as the tall boy kissed him. Garrett's smirk slipped off his face and a scowl replaced it.

"See, Garrett?" Stiles looked at the blond boy. "I'm more than just your little chew toy. I always was. You're just a sadistic creep who can't get his rocks off like any other teenage boy." People around them snickered. Garrett looked around, breathing hard, and he pointed a finger directly in Stiles' face.

"You're going to fucking regret this, Stilinski," he hissed. "Just like last time." He turned and stalked off down the hallway. Stiles paled at the four words and swallowed.

Derek looked at him. "Stiles, does that have something to do with—" Stiles clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him into an empty classroom, where he let himself go from Derek and put his head against a wall. "Stiles?"

"Who told you?"

"Jackson mentioned something yesterday about 'that one afternoon in the locker room'," Derek explained, taking a seat closest to where Stiles was standing. "I wasn't going to ask you, but— What did they do to you?"

 _ **FLASHBACK**_

Stiles was on his way to his Jeep after the bell rang. He wanted to get home as soon as possible, in order to avoid any possible confrontation from Scott, who was on the warpath after their science teacher who, despite saying that they would be graded as one, gave Scott a C in their project since all Scott did was show up for the presentation. She'd said that it was obvious that the work was all Stiles' doing. Scott had sent Stiles death glares all through class and Stiles knew that if he didn't get out soon, he'd get a worse beating than usual.

"Hey, Stilinski!" Stiles turned in the direction of the voice and was immediately grabbed from behind by someone he couldn't identify.

"Let me go!" Stiles struggled with what he could but only received an extra-hard twist of the arm. The laughter he heard was recognizable. Garrett. The only person aside from Jackson and Scott who had some kind of personal issue with Stiles' existence. "What do you want?"

Stiles felt Garrett's hot breath in his ear. " _You_ , Stilinski. You flaunt your gay ass all around school for everyone to see. Maybe once you've had some cock, you won't be so out and proud anymore, huh?"

"N-no!" Stiles' struggling resumed although he knew Garrett was much stronger than him. He watched as he was pulled down to the boys' locker room. Stiles' heartbeat quickened once he saw Jackson already there.

Jackson came over, taking Stiles from Garrett. He grabbed the front of Stiles' shirt and lifted him up, pinning him to a locker. "Terrified yet?" Stiles shook his head; he wouldn't give Jackson the satisfaction of seeing him scared. "We'll fix that." He looked over at Garrett. "Get the rope."

Garrett complied and dug around in a big black duffel bag, pulling out a length of rope. He expertly bound Stiles' wrists behind his back and Jackson let him go, dropping him to the floor.

"Did you lock the door?" Jackson asked as he unbuckled his pants, dropping them to the floor. Stiles laid face-down on the cold tile, whimpering softly. He didn't know why they were doing this to him. Sure he was out about who he was, but he didn't think that he was flaunting it.

"Yep." Garrett nodded. He bent down beside Stiles and flipped from his stomach onto his back, riding his shirt up slightly. "You've got such a nice body, Stilinski. I don't know why you don't show it off more."

"P-please," Stiles whispered. "You don't have to do this."

Jackson scoffed. "It's not that we don't _have_ to. It's that we _want_ to." His signature smirk returned. "Get him on his knees." Garrett grabbed the rope holding Stiles' hands and jerked him up to a kneeling position. "Open up, Stilinski."

 _ **END FLASHBACK**_

"That was a year ago," Stiles whispered, still facing the wall. He felt hot tears slide down his cheeks as he recounted the story. Derek was silent; he knew these kids were cruel, but downright vicious? He didn't see that coming. "I've never told anyone about that day, not Boyd and Erica, not my dad, nobody. Not until you." He turned to look at Derek, tears streaking his face. "I don't know what it is, but my gut is telling me that you're the one. The one I can trust with this kind of thing." He placed his hands on the desk before him. "We wouldn't keep secrets, would we?"

Derek stood up, circled the desk, and placed his hands on Stiles' hips. "Never," he murmured before leaning down to kiss Stiles again. Once they pulled apart, Derek sighed. "On that note, there's something I should tell you." He moved away from Stiles, back turned as his eyes glowed blue.

* * *

 _ **A/N2**_ : Reviews are always appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N**_ : Yes, it's back. I apologize for the 13-month hiatus. I just finished season 5 yesterday and I'm starting season 6 today. The binge has helped my muse for these stories and I am beyond ecstatic to get these going again.

* * *

"Derek, I'm sure whatever it is you're going to tell me won't be so bad," Stiles said calmly. Derek exhaled, keeping his breath even as he turned to face Stiles, eyes still glowing blue. After the initial chance of running away had passed, Stiles was still standing in front of him, expression blank.

"You're not running away in terror." Derek's eyes shifted back to their original green. "Isn't that usually the response to discovering that your love interest isn't human?"

Stiles cocked his head to the side. "Honestly, I'm not all that surprised. The fact that werewolves exist actually answers a lot of the weird shit that goes on around Beacon Hills. The so-called animal attacks, people with scratches no animal around here could actually make, it all makes sense now." Derek stared blankly at Stiles. "I read. Judging by your blue eyes, you've taken an innocent life?" Derek nodded.

"Y-yeah." He regained his voice. "Her name was Paige. It was about four years ago and I talked to this other Alpha to have her turned, but the process didn't work and I killed her to spare her suffering."

Stiles nodded. "Is that what Isaac was going on about yesterday? Your girlfriend?" Derek looked uneasy and Stiles placed a hand on his. "We never have to talk about it again."

"You're okay with this?" Derek looked at Stiles. " _All_ of this?"

"Might take some getting used to, but yeah. I'm quick to adapt." Stiles grinned. Derek slowly broke into a smile matching Stiles' and pressed their foreheads together. "Eskimo kisses?"

"Shut up," Derek snorted, bringing Stiles' lips down to his.

* * *

"How much you wanna bet they're making out in an empty classroom?" Isaac nudged Liam as they walked to second period. "Fifteen? Twenty?"

Liam shook his head. "Dere said no more betting," he said.

"Come on, why not? Afraid you'll lose again?" Isaac taunted. Liam responded by shoving the bigger boy slightly. Isaac chuckled and looked off in the distance to see Lydia talking with Jackson, who donned a pair of sunglasses. "Man, what I wouldn't give for a date with her, even if she is dating that self-absorbed douchebag."

Liam glanced up at Isaac. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk like this before, Zac. She must mean a lot to you, huh?" Isaac nodded. "I'll help you get her and, if not, help you find another. You know, Stiles' friend Erica's been looking for you."

"Yeah, no. She scares me," Isaac murmured. "She cornered me yesterday and interrogated me about any past relationships."

"Did you tell her about—" Isaac clamped a hand over Liam's mouth.

"No. And we're never going to bring it up again. Remember our bro code?" Liam nodded and pried Isaac's hand away.

A crash from down the hall made both boys look up, seeing a tiny brunet boy on the tile floor, scrambling to collect his books, and Garrett and a couple lacrosse players walking away, high-fiving each other. Isaac hurried over and helped the kid to his feet.

"Thanks," the boy mumbled, shoving his books into his knapsack. "Those guys are fucking dicks." With a raised eyebrow from Isaac, he continued with a small shrug. "I may have said something about them compensating for something by being jackasses."

"I'd say good on you, but..." Liam put an arm around his shoulder. "It'll probably only get worse. That blond kid seems like a vindictive prick."

"Tell me about it." Another boy walked by, his eye blackened. "Gave me this for his lack of help on a project."

* * *

"Hey, Kelvin?" Matt looked over at the younger male during the gap between classes. "Did you— I mean, Jackson's shit got ruined. Did you..." When he received a smirk, he knew. "Wow. You must really have a death wish."

Kelvin shuffled his locker. "Chill. It's not like Whittemore's gonna figure it out." When Matt didn't say anything, Kelvin shut his locker and leaned against it. "You're not telling me something." Matt bit his lip. "Out with it. Matt, what did you do?"

"The thing is, Kel, I..." Matt exhaled. "When I came over last night, reconciliation wasn't exactly the first thing on my mind." The boy raised an eyebrow, waiting for elaboration. "Y-you see, uh, you were supposed to answer the door and Jackson was going to jump you."

Kelvin seemed blank for a moment before he spoke. "Okay. Well, honesty's better than nothing," he said calmly. "You wouldn't sell me out now, right?" Matt shook his head. "Then we're good."

Matt frowned and watched Kelvin warily, half expecting the sophomore to snap. "You're not mad?" He asked, taking a step away from the smaller male.

"You told me the truth, dude. That's more than you've done since... you know. Just remember, though," he grabbed the front of Matt's shirt and yanked him down to eye level, "don't fuck with me. I may not look like much, but you saw what happened to Jackson. I will destroy you. Got it?" Matt nodded quickly. "Good."

* * *

Stiles walked into his English class, dreading dealing with Matt, but the other boy was mysteriously quiet, eyes focused on his book. "Hey, Stiles," was all he said. Stiles felt something hit the back of his head and, glancing over his shoulder, saw Isaac motioning at something. Stiles picked up the paper ball and uncrumpled it. 'Is he bothering you?' Stiles jotted a note back and, checking on Ms. Blake's attention, tossed it back towards Isaac.

"You alright?" Stiles whispered to Matt, who nodded, not looking up. "How's your..."

"'s fine," the dark-haired boy murmured. "Sorry about... y'know, everything. I mean, I know you probably get this a lot, but I guess turning into a massive dick isn't exactly good coping skills for your best friend's death."

Stiles nodded. "I remember hearing about Justin. I'm sorry." He put a hand on Matt's shoulder. "I saw you with Kelvin this morning."

"Yeah, the kid's great. He really is." Matt looked around. "Did you hear about Jackson?" Stiles shook his head. "All of his lacrosse stuff, fucking wrecked. He's convinced it was you." He quickly added, "You wouldn't do it, I know, nor would you allow anyone to do something like that. I just found out Kel did it because of that day, with the dodgeball game and the stuff Jackson said about Justin."

"He seems like the type. All calm and stable when you think it's safe, then—" Stiles made an explosion with his hands. "We've always been cool. I mean, I did catch him when Jackson knocked him out." He watched Matt focus on the textbook for a moment. "You want some help? I guess now I'm starting this study group of people who used to kick my ass. Scott's also in."

Matt broke into a small smile. "I'd love that, dude. Thanks." Stiles turned to look at Isaac, who only shook his head and held up a pencil.

"Don't you dare," Stiles mouthed.

* * *

"Hey, little dude, what's this on your back?" Brett looked down at Liam and tugged on the collar of his shirt. "Holy shit. What happened to you?" Liam looked nervously up at Brett, who was eyeing him intently.

Liam cleared his throat. He couldn't even begin to consider telling him the truth. The consequences of what Isaac did was child's play compared to what Peter would do if Liam told anyone. "I was wandering out in the woods last night." Truth. "Probably got jumped by some animal." Technically true, getting tackled by Derek counted. "I'm fine though. Doesn't hurt a bit." Lie; it hurt like hell.

"If you say so, pipsqueak." Brett clapped Liam on the back and the brunet coughed to mask his painful whine.

"Dick," Liam growled, only to receive a smirk and hair tousle from the taller male. "Where's Mason anyway?"

Brett rolled his eyes. "Probably off with his boyfriend or whatever the hell they're calling it. I swear, any classes he shares with Corey, they're practically inseparable." The blond was quiet for a minute. "I'm actually kinda jealous. Wish someone liked me enough to annoy me about it every thirty seconds."

Liam smiled a little and nudged Brett in the side. "Maybe if you didn't find a way to call me short in almost everything you say to me, you might have a chance."

"Two days is barely enough to even consider that. Let's get to class, short stack." Brett put an arm around Liam as they walked down the corridor.

* * *

Stiles was headed for Econ when he was intercepted by two Letterman jacket-clad jocks. "They say two heads are better than one. Did they split a brain between you two?" He was grabbed and dragged into the boys' locker room, where Garrett was waiting.

"Hey, Spazlinski, how's it going?" The blond boy stood in front of Stiles with a smirk.

"Can't complain," he replied with a pleasant smile. "You know, Garrett, I love that you're confident enough to not care about how you look." A second later, he was doubled over.

"I don't understand why you have to make this so hard, Stilinski. Everything that comes out of your mouth just makes me want to punch you."

Stiles groaned. "How's that microphallus of yours?" Garrett frowned, trying to register what Stiles had said, which the black-haired boy considered as a win. "As always, it's a pleasure with you." He moved to leave but Garrett seized his arm and yanked him back.

"I'll show you a micro—" Stiles couldn't help but snort. "You just constantly ask for it." He slammed Stiles into a nearby locker and punched the slighter male in the face, knocking Stiles to the floor. Stiles touched his now bleeding nose and looked up at Garrett.

"That all you got?" Stiles knew he needed to learn when to shut up.

Garrett chuckled. "No one's coming to save you this time. I think you need a permanent reminder in who not to fuck with." He began to unbuckle his jeans.

* * *

"Anyone seen Stiles?" Derek looked around as class was about to start. Isaac and Liam shrugged. He glanced at Scott, who mouthed an "I don't know." Derek got up to leave but was pushed back into his seat by Coach Finstock, who had just entered the room.

Coach scanned his roll sheet and examined his charges. "Where the hell is Stilinski?" Derek's hand shot up. "What do you want, Hale?"

"I'll go look for him," Derek said, quickly leaving the room before Coach could protest. He headed down the corridors, searching for Stiles' scent, which he caught within minutes. Derek ran down the hall towards the locker room and tried to open the door. From within, he could hear Stiles whimpering and pleading.

"Shit." Derek shook his head and busted the door open to find Garrett straddling Stiles from behind. Green eyes turning blue, Derek's anger took over and his fangs appeared. The blond boy rolled off of Stiles and backed up against a locker, eyes wide with fear. "Come on," he murmured to Stiles, who pulled his pants up quickly and got up, not making eye contact with Derek. "Stand outside," he ordered. Stiles complied while Derek grabbed Garrett by the shirt and lifted him up.

The blond stuttered. "What the fuck are you?" Derek's eyes returned to normal and his fangs retracted.

"Stiles is off-limits from now on. Understood?" Garrett nodded. Derek released the boy, letting him sink to the floor, and left the locker room, putting a protective arm around Stiles, who was silent. He led Stiles outside to the deserted quad and sat him down.

Stiles finally looked up at Derek. "Thank you," he whispered, burying his face in Derek's neck. Derek only placed a hand on the back of Stiles' neck. "I feel—"

"Just relax for now, okay?" Derek held Stiles close and using his free hand to rub circles on his back. "Your safety and happiness are the only things that matter." He swallowed. "Want to know something?" He could feel Stiles nod. "I feel it too."


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N**_ : So I watched all of 6A on Monday and now I'm just like everyone else, waiting until June for 6B. Here, a bunch of vignettes from everyone's lives. I tried to focus more on characters we haven't seen in a while (i.e. Jordan, Boyd and Erica) and the end brings a new threat.

* * *

"Did he—?" Stiles shook his head. The normally hyperactive boy had been uncharacteristically quiet for almost two hours. "Sorry. I just— Whenever you're ready."

Stiles bit his lip and raised his head, brown eyes swimming with tears. "You came in at the last second before he did it. I don't know when to shut my mouth." He ran his sleeve across his eyes and sniffled. "You don't think he'd—"

"Who's going to believe him? Everyone either hates him or is afraid of him, probably more of the former." Derek placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. "I told you because I care about you, Stiles. Besides, you don't seem like the kind of guy who goes around telling everyone your boyfriend's a werewolf."

Stiles smiled a little. "Nobody's business but ours. Are Isaac and Liam—"

Derek nodded. "Them too. My whole family are... or were. Isaac and Liam were turned by my uncle Peter."

"Did your uncle really kill those kids?" Stiles said before he could reel himself back. Derek looked at the ground.

"I don't know. To be honest with you, it wouldn't surprise me if he did. Uncle Peter's always been kind of... y'know." Stiles nodded in understanding. "When I said Isaac and Liam are like my brothers, they're my pack brothers. But both of them are pretty much family anyway. Isaac and I have been close since grade school. My mom took him in when his dad and brother died. After my parents and sister passed, Isaac and I were shipped off to Chicago to live with a foster family. We wouldn't let them separate us and in high school, we met Liam and brought him under our wing."

Stiles listened intently. "I remember when you and Isaac saved me from Scott and Matt. And then you guys disappeared. I'm sorry about your family." Derek sighed and nodded.

"Thank you. It got out that it was a plane crash. That was a lie. It was a family of hunters, led by Chris Argent—"

Stiles put his hands up. "Wait. You mean Allison's a—" Derek nodded. "Wow. Recently, she seems like she'll kick someone's ass." Derek got up and stretched. "Can we go somewhere quiet, just the two of us?"

Derek smiled. "I know a place. Come on." He held out his hand, which Stiles took.

* * *

Jordan was on his way to class when someone ran into him, and fell to the floor. He put out his hand to help the kid up but only found Garrett. Jordan retracted and folded his arms. "Trying to run before someone catches you beating up some poor kid?"

"I saw a were—" Garrett stammered, pointing at the locker room. Jordan rolled his eyes and turned to leave when he collided with someone; he quickly caught the person's hand and found himself face to face with Lydia.

"Hey, uh, sorry about that," he chuckled. "Lydia, right?"

Lydia stood upright and shifted her papers. She tossed her hair back and gave Jordan a small genuine smile. "Mm-hmm. And you're Jordan?" Jordan nodded, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Thank you."

"Anything for a pretty lady," he said, mentally hitting himself for sounding so lame. Lydia shook her head fondly and began to walk away, putting a hand on Jordan's shoulder.

"Next time, just relax and maybe you'll get a dinner." Jordan felt his cheeks heating up as he heard her walk away.

* * *

"Not here either," Scott said, coming out of the boys' locker room. He looked at Isaac and Liam. "I'm telling you guys. I no longer have issue with Stiles and I have no idea where he is." He leaned against the wall. "He was supposed to help me with chem."

"Derek's not answering any of my texts," Isaac whined, showing Liam his phone. Almost twenty texts were sent to Derek in the past ten minutes.

"Maybe if you didn't annoy him every thirty seconds, he'd be more willing to reply." Liam shook his head and looked around. "Hey!" He called to a passing student. "You seen a kid, about yea high, dark hair, covered in moles, kinda cute—"

The boy snorted. "Yeah. You're talking about that spaz Stilinski. He left the locker room a little over two hours ago with the new kid with the broody eyebrows. They went out to the quad. Haven't seen them since." He looked at Scott. "Hey, McCall, thought you hated the freak. What gives?"

"Donovan, we're fine now, okay? Just leave it." Scott clearly wasn't about to explain. "Why don't you go fail your deputy test again?" The other boy growled but stalked off.

Liam looked up at Scott. "Damn, Scott. Didn't know you had it in you." He high-fived the tan boy.

"You know, I'm not as dumb as everyone thinks. I just... can't focus on school stuff very well." Scott looked at the floor. "And Donovan's a prick, so..."

Isaac's phone dinged and the blond lit up. "Derek finally replied! He's gone off with Stiles. Said he's keeping him safe and not to worry." He was quiet as he pocketed his phone. "So what now?"

"Hey, Scott, can you help me with my backshots?" Liam asked, looking up at the co-captain. Scott smiled and nodded.

* * *

Matt sat in the quad as he stared at his phone, an old picture of him with Justin and Kelvin pulled up. He bit his lip as his thumb traced over Justin's smile. Justin was the only person he ever told that he was bisexual, and Justin was his first kiss. Their friendship never faltered, even when Justin went off to war. They emailed and wrote letters back and forth, and then one week, a reply never came from Justin. The next week, two officers arrived at the Wolfe household when Matt was over, reading comics with Kelvin. Mrs. Wood fainted and Kelvin was mute, rare considering he almost never shut up. Matt was in shock. He sat down beside Kelvin and put an arm around the boy.

 _ **FLASHBACK**_

"Kel?" Matt asked gently, squeezing the younger male's shoulder. "Kel, it's..." He didn't know how to continue.

Kelvin looked up at Matt, blue eyes watering. "I..." He shuddered, trying so hard not to cry. "I can't. I can't do this." He ran up to his room, leaving Matt with Mrs. Wood, who was coming to.

"Matthew," Mrs. Wood whispered. "Justin would have wanted you to be the big brother Kelvin needs. Protect him. He needs it." Matt finally let himself cry. Justin wasn't just his best friend but he was also like an older brother. Matt needed him. At home, no one cared about him. The Wolfes were his family. Now it felt like there was a rift, and he couldn't deal with it. After some time on the couch, Mrs. Wood had gone into the kitchen, Matt left and he didn't look back.

 _ **END FLASHBACK**_

"Matt?" A voice made him turn. He found Kelvin wearing a small smile.

"H-hey, buddy," he said shakily, moving to make room for him. "You alright?" He tried to control his emotions. He couldn't lose it in front of Kelvin.

"I could ask you the same thing," Kelvin chuckled. "You know, it's been exactly ten months since..." He looked at his hands. "I'm always gonna miss him, but what I miss more is you. You were always there for me, especially when Justin couldn't." Kelvin ran a hand through his curly hair. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... Maybe we could... Y'know."

Matt looked at the boy. "You want to... do that? We're basically like brothers. Wouldn't it be weird?"

"Maybe at first, but can we try it?" Kelvin put his hand on Matt's.

"Okay."

* * *

"You know, he should really text us back!" Erica groaned, tossing her phone onto the dashboard. "He's probably got a boyfriend now and forgotten all about us." She folded her arms, pouting. Glancing up, Erica spotted Isaac trailing behind Scott and Liam. "They're hanging out with—" She rolled her window down and stuck her head out. "Isaac!" The blond boy flinched and looked around, giving her a wave. "C'mere!"

Isaac headed over and leaned on the car. "Hey, guys, what's up?"

"Stiles abandoned us and we're aimless without him," Boyd said without emotion. Erica motioned to him and nodded.

"Well, he's with Derek. They're kind of a thing now," Isaac explained. "Liam's hanging out with Scott and they're practicing lacrosse, so I got nothing to do if you two want to go do something." He looked around for a moment. "You know, I haven't really gotten much chance to explore since I've been back. You guys want to go grab something to eat?"

* * *

Stiles looked around the small space, cuddled against Derek. "This is nice," he murmured. "Quiet and just the two of us." He reached up and played with Derek's shirt. "Just when things start to look up—"

"Don't say any more," Derek said softly. "Don't jinx it. He'll never lay a hand on you again or I'll rip out his throat. With my teeth." Stiles' eyes widened slightly. "I'll do it. What he's done to you— No one deserves that, least of all, someone as beautiful as you."

Stiles cooed, cupping Derek's face. "You come off all broody and angry but you're just a big softie!" He kissed Derek loudly. "I love you too!" It was the first time he'd said it but this wasn't really the emotional time. Stiles just loved messing with Derek.

The larger male gently pushed Stiles off. "Calm down. At least you're not all quiet anymore. You'll probably never let me live this down but I like to hear you ramble on about whatever's on your mind."

Stiles' whiskey brown eyes lit up in excitement. "In that case, I'll tell you all about how—" Derek sighed. He should have kept his mouth shut.

* * *

"I don't think this is such a good idea." Standing in front of Beacon Hills High were three new arrivals. "How do you know they'll even remember you? It's been what—ten years?"

The boy at the forefront chuckled. "Trust me. Everyone hates Stilinski. They'll remember the one who started it. That spastic little shit brought it on himself." The other two looked at each other; neither of them knew who he was going on about. The girl spoke up.

"Are you sure about this, Theo?"

"Positive."


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N**_ : Oh my God, it's alive! I apologize profusely for my nearly year-long absence from this story. I got writer's block on this and I didn't want to give you, my beloved readers, a shitty chapter. Kind of like how we've waited 14 years for _The Incredibles 2_. I had this idea for the story's direction but I wasn't quite sure how to deliver, and yet, here we are. I can't promise consistent updates (much unlike that damn _13 Reasons Why_ story I have) but I will work extra hard to finish this.

* * *

 _"Scott!" Stiles caught up to his best friend just as school got out. "Want to come over and try out the GameCube my mom just got? I got_ Madden NFL 06 _." The seven-year-old was beyond excited for his upcoming eighth birthday and the party Claudia was planning for him._

 _Scott was trying to make sense of the math homework they were given for the weekend and, upon hearing Stiles' voice, looked up with a bright smile. "Totally! Did you invite everyone for your party?" Stiles nodded, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. "Mom said invite_ everyone _, right?" Stiles' smile faltered slightly. He looked over at the hollowed-out tree over by the playground to see Theo Raeken, who Stiles didn't trust, unlike everyone else in class. Stiles had this gut feeling that Theo wasn't like them. After his sister drowned, Theo wasn't the same happy-go-lucky kid they knew._

 _"Dude, you can't do that to him," Scott murmured. "That's just mean, and not the Stiles I know."_

 _"I know, Scotty, but— You know how I feel about him. Did you hear what happened in gym last week?" Scott was out from an illness brought on by his asthma but Stiles witnessed firsthand as Theo single-handedly took out everyone in dodgeball in less than three minutes._

 _"Sti, whatever he's done... it doesn't matter. Don't be that guy. If you don't, this kind of thing can follow you forever. Just think what would happen if in high school, it comes up?" Stiles nodded. "Go ask him."_

 _Stiles walked over to Theo and handed him a red envelope. "Come to my birthday party?" He asked. The brunet looked up suspiciously._

 _"This isn't some kind of joke, is it? I'm not stupid. I know you don't like me." Theo's voice was quiet and sad. "Don't invite me just because you_ have _to. I know you're all afraid of me." Pausing for a moment, he took the envelope anyway. "Thanks, Stiles."_

 _"Y-yeah." Stiles walked back over to Scott._

* * *

"Your backshots suck, Dunbar," a voice called out. Liam groaned, pulling off his helmet, and turned to see Brett coming up to him. "May I?" He asked with a smirk. Liam handed him the crosse and watched as the brunet easily scored shot after shot past Scott, whose grin was visible through his mask.

"Show-off," the smaller male grumbled, snatching his stick back. He took a deep breath and aimed carefully, scoring a shot. Granted, Scott's mind was preoccupied.

Brett grinned, patting Liam on the head. "Good for you, squirt."

"Screw you." Liam didn't look up as he sat down in the grass beside Scott. "What's on your mind, dude?"

Scott looked over, snapped out of his haze. "Nothin' you guys can help with. Thanks anyway." Liam raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Isaac had filled him in on Scott and Stiles, and Liam could see that Scott really was trying to be a better person, no matter how much this abrupt change didn't seem to make sense.

"Hey, who's that?" Brett spoke up and the three boys looked over at the brunet standing at the edge of the field. "Can we help you?" He called. The male approached them, only to point to Scott.

"Scott McCall." Scott stood up, eyes wide. "Come with me." The arrival turned to leave but Scott was rooted in place, not knowing what to make of it. "I have some information you might like to hear, Scotty." Only two people ever called him 'Scotty': Stiles and...

"Theo?"

* * *

"So you guys have been Stiles' best friends since kindergarten?" Isaac looked between Boyd and Erica. The blonde nodded and took a long sip from her milkshake. "I think Derek and I saved him once. Like fourth grade or something."

"He told us all about it... or, well, most of it." Boyd glanced up from his phone. "I was out sick and Erica was in trouble again." She lightly hit his shoulder. "You were. According to Stiles, you sassed Mr. Loeb, which I can believe."

Erica snorted. "If I could remember what it was over, I would probably do it again." She shook her head and turned her attention back to Isaac. "You and Derek were in the class across the hall." She caught the look from her right. "What? I don't recall _everything_ , okay?"

Isaac was about to ask another question before Boyd cut him off. "Being friends with Stiles has always been kind of awkward because of how often he opened his mouth and got into trouble but we were always there for him..." Erica put her arm around him. "No one seemed to want to jump in."

* * *

Scott blinked. He could barely remember the last time he saw Theo Raeken. "Where have you been after all these years? We all thought you—"

"I know what you all thought," the other snapped. "Figured Theo went crazy after his sister drowned. Stilinski thought _I_ did it. Why do you think I hated him so much?" He scoffed and leaned against a nearby tree. "You two used to be best buddies, y'know that?" Scott looked more confused than ever. As far back as he could remember, he'd bullied Stiles. "You really don't remember, do you?"

The tan boy shook his head. "All I can... Jackson and I were picking on him all the time."

A smirk spread across Theo's face. "Good to know," he murmured. He was debating telling him. He knew Scott's skylight leaked a little and, therefore, informing him that a lot of his childhood is the result of his abilities was less than likely to raise any attention. "What would you say if I told you that I erased your memories of you and Stilinski being besties?"

"Wait, what?"

* * *

Stiles looked around the entry hall. "Wow. Don't think I've ever been in here before," he murmured. Derek had brought him back to the house. "Derek, I—"

He was cut off with a kiss and Stiles relaxed into Derek's hold, his hands moving around his back. His eyes widened and he pulled back. "Stiles..."

"Who did this?" Stiles' voice was quiet, fingers ghosting over the scratches through Derek's shirt. "Derek... who?"

The black-haired boy looked almost ashamed to admit it, like it was his fault. Stiles hated that look. "It was an accident," he mumbled. "Remember when Isaac wouldn't let go of you?" Stiles nodded. "He said you smell like home."

Stiles was silent for a moment. He wasn't quite sure how that was meant to be interpreted. "Like—"

"Like we were finally home. Not just this house or this town. Somewhere where we belong." Derek took Stiles' hand and squeezed gently. "They feel safe, thanks to you."

"How cute." The teenagers looked up to see Peter standing in the doorway. "Dear nephew, would you care to explain why there are not only two Hunters nearby but also why there is a— I take it this is Stiles— Why there is a Stiles in the house?"

* * *

"What do you mean you erased our memories?" Scott didn't think people like that existed. They were like comic book characters.

Theo's smirk widened a little and he took a step forward, so he was chest to chest with the slightly taller male. "I mean..." He reached up to tap Scott's forehead. "I went into your head—not physically, of course—and pulled out any positive impressions you had about Stiles Stilinski. Not just you. Everyone in our class. Lydia, Jackson, Danny, Kira, Malia... anyone who had anything favorable about Stilinski.

"But I'm not entirely heartless. I let him have friends. Boyd and Erica, they were just as useless as Stiles. They belonged together." He moved back, folding his arms across his chest. "What do you say to that?"

Scott had no idea what to say to that. He was still trying to fully comprehend what Theo just told him. He couldn't believe that he and Stiles used to be close. His earliest memory was putting Stiles face down in the mud in first grade for calling him stupid.

* * *

"This is weird." Matt looked down at Kelvin, whose head was in his lap. "I mean, us reading comics together isn't but like this... it is." He sighed. "Can we just be bros? I don't even know if I'm—"

The curly-haired boy sat up and turned to face the older. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pressured you into anything. I just—" He bit his lip. "I wanted to be close to you again. I know I put up the stubborn front but I really missed having you around. Might've helped with everything."

"Hey. It's fine. I missed you too, squirt." Matt tousled his hair affectionately. "I could get used to the cuddling but let's keep it platonic for now, yeah?" Kelvin nodded and instead settled for Matt's shoulder while they put on an episode of a series they used to watch with Justin.

"Main character looks like you..."

* * *

"I expect an answer when I speak to you. I thought I taught you better than that." Peter advanced menacingly. "Why is there a human in the house?"

Derek moved Stiles behind him. "I brought him here."

"And why, pray tell, did you do so? Would you care to explain the presence of Hunters as well?"

Derek looked up at his uncle. "I'm not aware of any Hunters. And Stiles is my mate." Stiles' cheeks paled. They barely started hung out and he was Derek's _mate_?! Maybe it was to protect him. He'd have to go over this with him later.

The noise that emerged from Peter was somewhere between a scoff and a growl. "You don't know what it means to have a mate, Derek. You're barely seventeen years old."

"There was a spark between us. I knew it the second I saw him." Derek knew what he wanted, and all he wanted was Stiles. Stiles, in the meantime, had lost all color in his face and was holding onto the staircase to prevent from falling over. "You will not harm him."

"I don't think you're in the best position to be making orders. I should punish you until you are unable to move." Peter exhaled. "But, as there are _Argents_ in the midst," Stiles looked up wide-eyed, "I will not risk attracting their attention further."

Stiles regained control of his body and stepped in front of Derek, bravely confronting the Alpha. "I know everything." He was bluffing but his heartbeat kept a steady pace. "I will keep it all a secret. Not for the sake of my life but for Derek's. And Isaac's, and Liam's. My only condition," Peter raised an eyebrow, "is that you never lay a hand on them ever again." His brown eyes were sharp and focused on Peter.

Something resembling smugness briefly passed over Peter's face. "Fine. But if word gets out about the supernatural, you're first." He swiftly turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

"I can't believe you did that." Derek spun Stiles around, looking at him with nothing short of admiration. "I..."

"You don't have to say it. I know you do."


End file.
